


burning sweat, past desires

by sunboy



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Drama, Exes, Getting Back Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunboy/pseuds/sunboy
Summary: After breaking up with Seungwoo in high school and nursing a broken heart for three years, Chan is finally ready to leave the past behind and look forward to a brighter future, one that includes going on dates and having fun like any college student would. With his friends' help, he even scores a date with a hot guy that his friends swear is a perfect match for him. Absolutely nothing could go wrong about this.Except Chan runs into Seungwoo at the mall two hours before his blind date, and everything comes crashing down like a pitiful wave of realization that no matter how much time has passed and no matter where in life Chan might be, he will never be completely over Seungwoo.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Heo Chan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60
Collections: VICFEST®—round two!





	burning sweat, past desires

**Author's Note:**

> for the vicfest round 2! to the prompter of #201 i really hope u enjoy this because it was a bitch to write but god am i proud of this fic. my magnum opus. whats better than this? just idiots loving other idiots
> 
> huge thanks to the demon under my bed (kevin) for bearing with me through the whole writing process and for making sure none of the angst ever got Too angsty lol
> 
> enjoy!!

**ONE.**

Seungsik once asked him if he had a dream.

Chan wanted to be a producer.

Ever since he started middle school and up until the moment he graduated from high school—back when time felt infinite and so a few years of his life weighted more heavily than everything else—Chan wanted to be a producer, a song-writer, a musician. He wanted to make music and get it out into the world more than anything else. Out of twenty-something years being alive, he spent a little over five completely absorbed in his dream, and so Chan's life could be divided into different stages as following: his childhood; the transitioning period between being a kid and starting to believe he wasn't one anymore; and the years that replaced his teenhood—those years in which he and Seungwoo walked the same path, both trying to make their shared dream a reality.

He finds himself being asked the same question once again. Chan tells Byungchan and the rest of the group most of what he told Seungsik: he talks about producing, about learning to play the piano and saving up enough money to buy a launchpad, about auditioning for several companies and eventually getting into one before moving from the producing team to the idol one.

"You were a trainee?" Byungchan asks, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Seungsik laughs at his face from where he's trying to do club stuff a little away from the rest of the members, clearly failing.

"No way!"

"Our Channie?"

"I can totally see that," another club member, a girl by the name of Haemi, says. She starts talking to the rest of the small group and everyone pays attention to her words as if she were the club leader giving out tasks, which is what Seungsik did a while ago, but even though everyone looked really concentrated on his words, the truth is that they quickly gave up and formed a circle in the middle of the room to chat as they procrastinate. "Heochan-oppa is really handsome, right? He totally fits the idol type. Not only that but he knows how to groom himself really well—I have a cousin who's also a trainee and he said that trainees teach each other that stuff."

Byungchan suddenly turns to him, hitting his arm as he exclaims, "So that's why you exfoliate your lips!"

"You exfoliate your lips?"

The conversation gets briefly sidetracked as they all start discussing Chan's skin care routine, with Byungchan chiming in here and there, mostly talking about how he's been doing his all wrong. It's not until he and Haemi agree to go shopping for new products later in the day that someone addresses Chan again; a girl named Maya asks, "So what did you specialize in?"

It might be because he's realized that he looks like a fool working all by himself when everyone else is having fun, but Seungsik leaves his chair to move to the big lump of desks in the middle of the borrowed room. He's the one who answers, "Chan was a dancer."

A chorus of 'woah's ring in the room.

"That's so cool! Can you show us some of your moves?"

"What? Guys, c'mon—"

He tries to get out of it, but his easy way out—Seungsik plus the work they should be doing for him—is standing among the crowd and encouraging him the loudest. Chan can't fight with all twelve members of the Animation Club and so he ends up sighing, which everyone immediately interprets as their victory. The rapid-fire questions start as soon as he walks up to the only empty space in the room where he can dance without hitting his knee on a desk or elbowing a girl on the face: what is he going to dance? Is he going to do a routine from his trainee days? What company did he go to, anyway? The last question is answered once more by Seungsik, and the moment everyone learns he went to the same company as Lim Sejun, they all start telling him to dance to one of the idol's songs.

When one of the boys gets back from rummaging through his bag and announces, "I got the speaker! What should I play?" Chan tries to act cool.

"Surprise me," he says.

The first notes of _Chasing Fire_ soon start playing and Chan rolls his shoulders, ready to dance.

The moves come to him naturally. The song is not any of the ones he practiced back then, nothing he had to learn as a trainee for a monthly evaluation or because he saw himself debuting and going to variety programs, dancing to his senior's songs as well as whatever's popular at the moment. _Chasing Fire_ is a pretty recent release, actually. Chan knows the choreography because he likes the song enough to learn it in his spare time, in between classes and club activities and part-time jobs.

He dances with ease. He has fun with it because these are just friends and classmates. Like back then, when he stayed up late in the dance room on the 4th floor with his friends and it came to a point where they all gave up and started fooling around in front of the mirrors.

The memory hits him suddenly, too sudden for Chan to suppress it: him at the 4th floor practice room, mirrors fogged up after hours of non-stop dancing. The tips of his fingers turn unbearably warm with the hot blood flowing through them and it reminds him of the heat that day—the summer of his second high school year. Chan danced the hardest that day; he danced with worn-out sneakers and a bucket hat plastering his hair to his sweaty forehead. He danced as if that would be the last time he'd ever get the chance to dance, making the most of it, not stopping even when his muscles ached and his feet started bleeding. Maybe he would've stopped, but stopping meant giving up. It meant not a break spent collapsed on the floor, catching his breath before passing out only to be found by his friends in the morning, his friends who would think he simply slept in the practice room again—but giving up on his dream. On their dream.

And he couldn't do that with Seungwoo watching him from the back of the room.

Chan has only one thought when he finishes dancing up to the first chorus, the claps of his club members downright deafening, his mind drawing to a blank when trying to remember the rest of the choreo. It's more like a question, really.

Why didn't he mention Seungwoo when he talked about his dream? Not once did he mention Seungwoo's name, or even pointed at the existence of someone else in his past. The person that convinced Chan to do more than post songs on SoundCloud; to fervently and wholeheartedly pursue his dream; to gain a new one in the way. The person that kept Chan sane throughout it all. Someone who would make all the exhaustion dissipate from Chan's body with a touch of his hand and nothing but words, to make it all worth it after seeing his shining eyes watching Chan dance in front of the mirror. Seungsik must be aware of the omission of Seungwoo as pointedly as Chan is, and it makes Chan feel even worse about it because Seungwoo isn't a painful memory. He's not someone who Chan can't talk about for fear of opening old wounds. Seungsik knows about Seungwoo and anything Seungsik knows, he can tell Byungchan, too, and if he can tell Byungchan then he can tell the rest.

His clubmates keep clapping and praising him. Chan smiles, shaking his head when Haemi and Maya take it further still, saying that he's even better than some of the idols they listen to; that he's even better than Sejun himself. They're clearly exaggerating and Chan smiles wider, but his chest hurts because Seungwoo used to be exactly the same, always clapping the loudest, always praising him the most.

Is Seungwoo his dirty little secret now?

**TWO.**

"Actually, I shared my dream with someone else."

The five of them sit at a plastic table outside a convenience store with bags of makeup and skincare products between their feet. It's a tight squeeze so Maya actually sits on Byungchan's lap, and to anyone passing by they would seem like an overly touchy couple, but the five of them just laugh and crack jokes about it. Chan's words mark the start of a new conversation as their laughter fades and no one continues the previous topic—he downs a shot of soju before and after he says them. 

"Your dream?" Maya asks, cocking her head to the side. She's really pretty, with bobbed hair and nails long and sharp like cat claws, except for the two on her right hand which are always kept short. "Oh, you mean producing?"

Chan nods.

"I don't get it, though," Byungchan cuts in. "Why did you stop producing?"

He shrugs, "I don't know." His eyes stay on the empty glass as he tries to resist the urge to grab it just to fidget with something. "I dropped out of the idol team, right? I did think about moving back to the producing one, but—I don't know. Between continuing to pursue my dream and going to college, I kept thinking about studying more and more. And here I am."

He stops when his voice starts sounding foreign to his own ears. He's pointedly aware of how he's avoiding talking about Seungwoo again, but he doesn't want to do that—Seungwoo isn't a secret. He's _not_. Chan isn't going to treat him like one.

He takes a deep breath and continues, "By the time I dropped out of the trainee program, my dream of simply making music had changed to something more like... performing, I guess. Being on stage to sing my songs myself. But I wasn't as passionate about it like my—"

He frowns, searching for the right word. 

"The person who convinced me to audition," he ends up saying. "The person I shared my dream with—I wasn't as passionate as him."

"I remember Seungwoo-hyung," Seungsik cuts in, a nostalgic smile on his face as he fills everyone's glasses. "He was a returning student a year older than us; we met him at the start of high school. He and Channie were inseparable."

Maya leans closer to Chan, her large eyes full of curiosity. "So you two bonded over producing or performing? Was he also a trainee?"

"He self-produced," Chan explains, "all at home, like I did. I posted my songs to SoundCloud while he kept his to himself; he'd only show them to Seungsik and me. We kept trying to get him to show his songs to other people, you know? 'Cause they were good."

"They were really good," Seungsik interjects.

Chan nods at him. They really were.

"I don't know how it happened," he continues, "but one day he came up to me and asked if I wanted to produce, like, professionally. He said he sent some of his songs to a company and that they hadn't gotten back to him yet—that he suspected they would never do, but he still wanted to try. I guess that's when our dreams became one."

His voice grows quiet towards the end. The night is still pretty young and the streets are busy, cars constantly driving by and people walking along the broad sidewalks chattering loudly among themselves. It's only the five of them who are quiet, only their table full of bottles not even half-empty yet, and Chan fills his glass again.

"That's nice," Haemi says to break the silence.

"So you two _were_ trainees together," Maya states, tentatively.

"We auditioned together for several companies. Usually they would call back only one of us, but we really wanted to work together so we kept trying to get into the same one. Eventually we both got contacted and we signed our contracts using the same ink."

Chan grabs his glass and downs it in one go. The alcohol isn't getting to him yet so he continues drinking like it's water, wondering when it'll get easier to talk about this. It's really so weird; he doesn't tend to bring Seungwoo up, only doing it when it's just Seungsik and him in their rooms and the night is long and they both feel a little lonely, but it's never been this hard to talk about him.

"These two—" Seungsik suddenly laughs to himself, a fond smile taking over his features. "You should've seen them coming to class after sleeping for, what, two hours? Their schedule wasn't even that bad, but they would stay up all night practicing together instead of resting."

"Oh my God." Chan chuckles into his drink. "We worked so hard back then."

"Now you won't even do any club activities."

Byungchan jumps in right there, talking about how the tasks Seungsik gives out are just too boring. The mood lightens up as Haemi starts going off on Seungsik, something about her being the second in charge and yet Seungsik won't go with her suggestions, and the two of them start bickering when Seungsik argues that Haemi's only suggestion is to do nothing at all. The two of them get along pretty well, and with Maya and Byungchan also having a good relationship, for a second Chan stops feeling part of a whole and feels like a fifth wheel of sorts. The feeling is gone as soon as it's there, but he can't get it out of his head; it stays an itch, a reminder that _Seungsik and Chan_ now includes Byungchan, and that the three of them also have Haemi and Maya now, and if they all were to pair up, he'd be left alone.

He misses Seungwoo like crazy at that moment.

"I wonder where hyung is nowadays?"

"I almost thought he died or something, with the way you two were talking about him," Haemi says. Chan immediately bursts into laughter, but Maya and Byungchan nod vehemently at Haemi, indicating they thought so too.

"He's not dead," Seungsik tells them with an amused smile on his face. Though his tone turns a little unsure as he adds, "At least I don't think so."

A beat passes by with no one saying anything.

"No way." Chan shakes his head. Byungchan attempts to be helpful by starting to list more than enough reasons as to why they wouldn't have heard from Seungwoo in—and he asks to know the exact date—three years. "Yeah," Chan agrees, "I'm sure he's busy staying up till ass o'clock training and that's why we haven't seen his face in so long."

"But," Maya cuts in, "you two sounded like you were really close; did something happen that you aren't in contact anymore?"

Seungsik answers for him in an instant: "They had a fallout."

Something about Seungsik's choice of words stops Chan from saying that's right. _Fallout_. That word doesn't fit what happened between them, not exactly. There was no big fight and no hurtful words were said. They simply... went their own ways. Their paths which had merged at one point broke off again. Chan dropped out of the training program and started working part-time jobs like crazy to pay his debt, having to leave producing on the side for a while to concentrate on preparing for entrance exams, with Seungsik at his side for the whole of it. Seungwoo stayed a trainee. They haven't spoken since.

Chan eyes Maya's nails again.

"We broke up," he admits.

He broke up with Seungwoo, and he can't even remember why.

**THREE.**

Through some long conversations that Chan doesn't particularly want to remember, they all agree on one thing: he has to date again.

It's a natural conclusion to arrive to after Chan spends the rest of the night crying on Seungsik's shoulder as he tells the others about Han Seungwoo. It's pretty simple: Chan and Seungwoo broke up; Chan hasn't dated anyone after that; thus Chan should try and date again. Haemi mentions that time heals all wounds but sometimes what you need is a good rebound, however late it might be—Chan doesn't really have enough experience to either agree or disagree with that, which the others use as an example of exactly why he needs to date again, and he can't really argue with _that_. 

So the club problem gets resolved pretty easily: both Seungsik and Haemi team up and get everyone to fully focus on helping Chan get back on the dating pool. Days are spent sitting around the big pile of desks and discussing possible matches for Chan; they brainstorm for girls and boys; they make jokes about Chan going out with Seungsik or Haemi or even both at the same time. It's the most fun Chan's had in years.

By the time his friends unanimously agree that he's ready to go on a date, Chan finds himself significantly different than he was before he danced to Lim Sejun in front of everyone a few weeks ago.

 **heochan**  
**is it rly ok? the leather jacket is not too much is it??** 17:03

 **kangseungsik**  
**wdym its too much thats My jacket** 17:03

 **shinhaemi**  
**oppa ive been telling u u dress either like a choir boy or like ur in a gang** 17:04

Chan laughs as the group chat comes alive, not to help him feel confident and self-asserted or anything like that, but to dunk on Seungsik's fashion sense. He doesn't really mind the lack of reassurance—he's got it constantly for the past few weeks—and so he pockets his phone and strides down long corridors, peeking into shops and cutting through food courts, looking for a coffee shop to sit at and wait a couple of hours until it's time to meet his blind date.

God. A blind date.

He's really going on a blind date.

It might be because he's wearing Seungsik's leather jacket, or because his previously black hair is now dyed the prettiest shade of platinum blond that he's ever seen, or because his previously comfortable clothes are now comfortable _and_ fashionable, but Chan actually looks forward to it. It's like he's a new Chan—a Chan who dances in front of his college friends and dresses nicely and goes on dates. And he feels good. He likes this Chan.

 **choibyungchan**  
**but hyung youre so early. the date isnt until another two hours** 17:19

 **baemaya**  
**why did we decide on the mall anyway? what if he bumps into a stranger and falls in love with them instead of hanse??** 17:21

 **kangseungsik**  
**but isnt the goal here to get chan to date... whats the problem there** 17:21

 **baemaya**  
**but think about hanse!!** 17:22

 **shinhaemi**  
**u gotta admit they would make the cutest couple** 17:23

 **baemaya**  
**exactly!! look look, imagine them together** 17:24

Chan sits at a table and waits for the buzzer to ring as he looks at the photo Maya sends to the group chat. It's a selfie of her and Haemi and the one and only Do Hanse, a.k.a. Chan's date. The three of them look like they've been friends all their lives, but the story goes something along the lines of Maya dragging Haemi to get matching tattoos and befriending Hanse at the parlor. The three of them are showing off their tattoos from that day: Maya and Haemi have their arms up, doing peace signs to show the mirrored design on their wrists, while Hanse is moving down the collar of his shirt to display part of the phrase under his collarbone.

The phrase is cut off anyway so Chan doesn't try to read it; he focuses on Hanse instead. Maya did show him some photos of Do Hanse before, completely ignoring the meaning of what a _blind_ date entails, but Chan still can't believe a boy so pretty wants to go on a date with him. Do Hanse is pretty; Do Hanse has dyed hair and tattoos and piercings; Do Hanse is into music; according to Maya and Haemi, Do Hanse's personality is a perfect match for Chan's.

 **heochan**  
**should i get a tattoo as well?** 17:29

The buzzer goes off and Chan looks away from the chat, leaving the table to make his way through the crowded cafe. He's about to arrive at the counter to get his coffee when a hand wraps around his arm and stops him dead in his tracks.

"Heo Chan?"

It's like everything stops. Chan forgets about his order waiting for him and he forgets about the people they're blocking their path to and he forgets about his phone and his friends and Do Hanse.

"You're Channie, right?"

It's like everything, including every droplet of blood in Chan's body, is frozen in time.

He slowly turns around, coming face to face with none other than his ex-boyfriend. Han Seungwoo looks as surprised as Chan feels—and Chan truly feels like he's been blindsided here—but the difference between the two of them makes itself obvious in an instant: while Seungwoo looks nothing short of shocked, the corner of his lips are already hinting at what's going to be a delighted smile, but the feeling that settles itself at the pit of Chan's stomach is something closer to dread. Why? Why now, why here—why is he meeting Seungwoo again the very same day Chan is beginning a new chapter of his life?

"Hey... hyung."

Chan attempts to smile back, because this is an old friend he's seeing for the first time in years—he's supposed to feel happy. But he can't bear to hold it for long after Seungwoo returns it tenfold, and Seungwoo's smile is as blinding as it is genuine, exactly as Chan remembers it being.

While Seungwoo smiles at him, Chan can't bring himself to do the same because he _knows_.

He knows he won't be meeting Do Hanse today.

Chan is going to leave with Han Seungwoo, because as long as three years might be and as pretty as Do Hanse might be and as exciting as the prospect of growing up and moving on might be, this is Han Seungwoo. And Heo Chan, no matter where in life he might be, will always choose Han Seungwoo.

**FOUR.**

It's surprisingly easy to forget everything about Do Hanse.

Before running into Seungwoo, Chan couldn't stop going over every little detail he learned about his date and thinking of all the questions he would ask the guy. Something like: so you like music, huh; what are your favorite genres? Who are your favorite artists? Do you sing yourself? Do you rap? Maya mentioned you all met at a tattoo parlor; how many tattoos do you have? Do you plan to get more? You think I would suit one? Maya also mentioned you study arts; why don't you try drawing something on my arm? And Chan would get in his head, daydreaming about all the possible ways the date could go, thinking of Hanse drawing on his skin and Hanse whisking him away somewhere only he knows and Hanse kissing him there and—

He's pretty sure that if someone were to put Hanse in front of him right now, Chan wouldn't recognize him.

That's just what happens when you're with Han Seungwoo. It's not Chan's fault; that's just how it is to be caught in Seungwoo's orbit, to be pulled by his gravitational field with no way out. Chan, who once got away from it, now realizes that he didn't actually 'get away'—like a comet cutting through the solar system, he simply got close enough to the sun to be ignited before seemingly running his course, only to find himself right where he once was some years down the line. And he knows it'll be the same again: get close, get burned, get away, then come back for more.

The truth is, Chan had plenty of chances to get away. When Seungwoo told him to wait a second as he got his order, Chan could've sneaked out of the coffee shop; when Seungwoo found him waiting outside and suggested they go somewhere else, Chan could've said no. Even now Chan is sure that he could find some excuse to leave Seungwoo, but he won't—that's just what it means to be with Han Seungwoo.

You get burned and you _love it_.

So Chan sits outside at the wide overpass leading to the mall, the railing having too tiny gaps to dangle their legs above the street so they sit with their backs to it instead. Chan's coffee is the only thing sitting between them as they watch all the people passing by in front of them. Faces in the crowd, nothing but extras, they all walk past them without sparing one glance at them—Do Hanse could be among them but Chan would never know.

"It's nice out here," Seungwoo says, breaking the silence. There's a lazy smile on his face as he closes his eyes, the summer breeze gently blowing his purple-tinted hair in all directions. "Not too warm."

"Why are we here, hyung?"

"I thought it'd be nice to catch up; we haven't seen each other in so long."

Three years.

Seungsik once asked Chan if he had a dream, and Seungwoo had been there, that day, three whole years ago. It kind of felt like the start of everything: when Chan revealed he liked to produce songs and Seungwoo looked at him with so much wonder in his eyes, as if wordlessly asking, _You too?!_

Chan sees that same Seungwoo right now, but the wonder in his eyes is muted. Surely, he must not want to know what Chan's been up to after breaking his heart.

So Chan doesn't talk about himself. He asks, "How's training going?" and tries to ignore all the feelings bubbling up from deep inside him. He plays with his hands between his thighs and keeps his head low, wishing so desperately he wouldn't feel the warmth radiating from Seungwoo's body, wishing it were the coffee getting cold instead, or the summer deciding to act as the mean-spirited force of nature it is and hit full-force.

"I'm not a trainee anymore," Seungwoo says with such an easy-going tone that Chan takes a few seconds to process the words. "I moved back to the producing team after you left. I'm a producer now."

Chan's mind freezes.

Seungwoo is a producer? So... he made it?

"Wow."

"Yeah," Seungwoo laughs at Chan's dumbfounded expression, but one of his hands goes to rub at the back of his neck true to a habit that Chan doesn't remember. He hesitates a little before saying, "I have credits in some of the songs from artists at the company. I do have my own stuff, too, but... It's not nearly as popular. I work mainly as a producer for Lim Sejun."

"Lim Sejun? Wow."

Seungwoo laughs again. "Yeah."

For some reason, the only thing that goes through Chan's mind—besides the strange mix of exhilaration and profound regret that rises inside him, a confusing mix he's trying to ignore—is the memory of dancing to Sejun's latest song in front of his friends.

"So, _Chasing Fire_..."

"Yup. That one's mine."

The feeling that Chan is trying so hard to ignore fights back, and it fights so hard that Chan feels like he might cry. He danced to Seungwoo's song—spent entire nights up until daylight, like back then, simply dancing in front of the mirror; playing the dance practice video at 0.5x and going over the same move until it became muscle memory and dancing with the song playing loud in the background and getting so lost in it that he sang as if it were his own song, made just for him. It truly felt like it at that moment, and now that he's learned that Seungwoo's the man behind it, Chan can't help but wonder if maybe that's how it was meant to be.

"Did you like it? I was so relieved to see it do well in the charts."

Chan makes the mistake of looking at Seungwoo right then. It takes his breath away so violently that he almost chokes on nothing, but it's nothing physical—it's Seungwoo's eyes, which show both worry and expectation. His tone is still pretty easy-going, but his eyes can't mask just how seriously he takes Chan's opinion. Back then, too, he'd wait with bated breath after showing Chan anything he composed.

Chan truly means it when he says, "It's my favorite song."

He really means it. He's sure Seungwoo knows it, because the smile that takes over Seungwoo's features is even more blinding than the one Chan saw before, when he was whisked away not somewhere only Seungwoo knows, but somewhere they can both talk as if time has changed, but they haven't.

"Really? You're not lying, right?"

"Why would I lie? I learned the song, you know."

"You learned it?" Seungwoo pauses. "You mean you danced to it?"

Chan nods, and because he remembers his coffee is still sitting untouched between them, he grabs it and takes a sip. It's lukewarm.

It's been three years.

Nothing much feels like it has changed, though. Chan's hair is different and he's walking around in borrowed clothes; his phone is still blowing up with new messages from his friends; it's different from back then, sure, but—

"I was hoping you would," Seungwoo says, once again rubbing at the back of his neck. There's a tiny smile on his face, somewhere between glad that Chan liked the song enough to learn the choreography and embarrassed that Chan liked it that much. "Actually, every time I was told to come up with a song for whatever artist, there was a moment in which I would stop and ask myself, 'Would Channie dance to this?' So I'm really happy to see that I made you dance again."

_I'm really happy to see that I made you dance again._

The words get under his skin and they burn as if they know that, otherwise, Chan would just ignore them.

"I've been dancing," he blurts out. He's once again fidgeting with his hands to avoid looking at Seungwoo, picking at the dead skin around his short, blunt nails. "You don't know because we haven't spoken in three years but I've been dancing, hyung. You don't have to worry about me. I'm dancing again. I even danced to _Chasing Fire_ in front of my friends—in front of Seungsik."

His words are all rushed and pointed, a little too sharp around the edges. He's not like Seungwoo; he can't adopt any relaxed tone any time he wants. He can't hide the urgency he feels in that he needs Seungwoo to know that Chan's _fine_ —he's still dancing, he didn't stop for that long, it's not Seungwoo's fault.

It's not Seungwoo's fault.

**FIVE.**

Seungwoo's voice drifts sweetly in the warm air. People walk by without sparing a glance at the two of them sitting side by side. Not even one person turns at Seungwoo's voice and Chan has no idea how that's possible. How is no one intrigued by the handsome guy with the warm look on his face, speaking so nicely with a voice made of sweet stuff? It might be because he's not staring straight ahead, past the railing and at the cars driving under them, words free to roam around and be picked up by any person walking by. Instead, his head is cocked to the side and he's talking to Chan, and just him.

"I'm not sure if you watched the video for _Chasing Fire_ ," Seungwoo's saying, "not that it really matters if you did. The video isn't exactly what I had in mind when writing the song—Sejun's great, don't get me wrong; I think he really suits the sort of aesthetic they went with. But I had really hoped for something more... I don't know. Story-wise, there really was nothing in the video, but the song has a lot of history to it."

And Seungwoo smiles then; Chan feels it in his voice.

"You see, I wrote it thinking of you."

Chan inhales sharply.

It makes sense, actually, that no one pays attention to them; people tend to walk with their heads held high, eyes staring straight ahead, always looking at where they want to be instead of at the things that are around them. Seungwoo's moved closer, moving the cold coffee out of the way to speak into Chan's ear.

"The original title was something like _Burning Sweat/Past Desires_. The song is powerful—you know that, you danced to it—but the lyrics are—"

"Why are you telling me all this, hyung?"

Seungwoo pauses, and he's so close that Chan's able to pick up his perfume. It's different from the one Seungsik gifted him once, the one that he used to wear as a trainee, and even before that, when they were just students with a dream they didn't know how to achieve. 

So much about Seungwoo has changed, just like how Chan has changed, and yet Chan feels so many of the same emotions that were so prevalent back then.

Seungwoo's hair (it's better styled than back then) and Seungwoo's hands (his nails aren't painted) and Seungwoo's clothes (had he always dressed this good?) and his eyes, and his lips, and his neck, and—

If Chan closes his eyes, he can see himself as a teen eating up everything Seungwoo, touching because he wanted to touch and biting because he wanted to bite, kissing softly because that's how Seungwoo likes it, pulling hair hard enough to hurt because that's what Seungwoo asks you to do, and it's everything Chan's ever desired. It's everything he still wants to do. It's Seungwoo, this is Seungwoo, he's with Seungwoo now, again, after so long—and Chan feels like he's already been set ablaze, the temperature under his skin rising up to over a hundred degrees.

He knew this when he decided to follow Seungwoo outside, but he's only now knowing how to put it into words. The obvious hits him so suddenly— 

"I'm not going to start reciting lyrics," Seungwoo lets out a laugh, "but you know what I thought about while writing them?"

Chan shakes his head.

"I kept thinking about the nights we would practice until our muscles ached and we could barely drag ourselves back to our beds before passing out. We wouldn't even make it to our individual rooms; we'd just crash at Sejun's, remember? We'd be all gross and sweaty but too tired to shower, and I would lie on the bed as close to the wall as possible to give you more space, but somehow you'd end up thrown all over me anyway."

Chan remembers.

"Anyway, those nights, back when we danced until we couldn't dance anymore and you kept dancing still—"

Chan remembers the summer of his second high school year.

"Thinking about them, I wanted to make a song like the ones you danced to, you know? The type of song that you can't get enough of. A song— The equivalent of the chasing of that burn that you welcome with open arms, with your tongue out like you're catching snowflakes instead of embers. A song like the fire you keep chasing even when it's not there anymore."

The obvious hits him so suddenly—

"A song that reminded me of you, Chan."

He's still in love with—

**SIX.**

Seungwoo tells him about this trainee named Jung Subin.

They're not sitting at the overpass anymore. After Chan's extremely belated realization that his feelings towards Seungwoo—the ones that made it impossible for him to turn Seungwoo away, to set his foot down and say, 'No, I have a date,' instead of following Seungwoo away from his new life—are more than simple remnants of the past, he desperately wants to get away from all the strangers surrounding them. He wants to be alone as he realizes it's not the memory of their high school years, or the regret of losing the three between then and now, but something so simple and so obvious that it might as well have been hiding in plain sight: Chan's still wants Seungwoo _so_ fucking bad.

It all comes crashing down on him in such a way that he nearly bursts out crying in the middle of the overpass. He doesn't, though. He doesn't cry, but Seungwoo still looks at him like there are tears running down his face and asks if he wants to go somewhere a little more private.

Even though no one really pays attention to them, Seungwoo wraps his hand around Chan's wrist and drags him away from the mall—from Chan's half-finished coffee and from Do Hanse—and takes him somewhere else.

It's a long walk to the river banks, but they make it by the time the sky starts showing the first shades of blue that mark the start of the night. The two of them sit on the slope a little away from the families and the couples and the people walking their dogs or buying street food. Seungwoo asks Chan if he wants something to eat, and after Chan shakes his head no, Seungwoo is silent for only a couple of seconds before he tells him about Jung Subin.

Subin is one of the few trainees with pre-debut activities. He's an actor, Seungwoo says. Unlike most actors at the company who get started with small roles in webseries or the like before moving onto bigger projects, Subin is a rare talent who's had two supporting roles in some highly-rated dramas before making the jump to the big screen, and now he's acting in movies while training to debut in a boygroup. Seungwoo explains that Chan doesn't know the kid because Subin joined the company a little after Chan left, but he, Sejun and Seungwoo are all good friends.

Chan hums. "I think I've heard the name."

"Right? Subinnie is really talented. He's only cast for supporting roles now, but it's just a matter of time before he's the lead in the next blockbuster."

"I think I was going to watch one of his movies now."

Seungwoo cocks his head, interested, and Chan takes out his phone to check if that's right. He ignores the time to look up the movie he and Hanse were supposed to watch before going to a bar to grab a bite and get something to drink. Jung Subin is among the cast. He doesn't tell Seungwoo that he's supposed to be on a date right now, but Seungwoo must figure it out on his own with the way Chan talks about missing Subin's movie.

Seungwoo doesn't point it out. It might just be him trying to make things easier on Chan, or, who knows—maybe he also blew someone off to sit in front of the river with Chan right now.

"I made Subin promise to act in one of my videos, someday," Seungwoo throws the comment out there. It makes Chan wonder just how is it that he missed the fact that Seungwoo is not only still producing, but also having official releases, with music videos and comeback stages and streaming deals and all. Chan wonders how he could've gone three whole years without even thinking about Han Seungwoo; how he never succumbed to curiosity and googled the guy after spending entire nights in Seungsik's bed, reminiscing about the past, asking themselves how Seungwoo might be doing on his own. Seungsik must know what Seungwoo's doing. Surely, he must know—and yet he never told Chan.

It sours his mouth, the idea of Seungsik keeping something like that from him.

Chan attempts to ignore the taste. "I wanna watch your videos."

"Oh, they're not that interesting." Seungwoo shrugs his shoulders, the tips of his ears turning the lightest shade of red. "My new one is the one supposed to be something grander—it was going to have a storyline and Subin was going to act in it, but then he got offered another deal that was just too good to turn down. He's currently out of the country filming and he won't be back for a while, so now we have to come up with a new idea for the video."

"Why don't you get someone else to act in it?"

"Because," Seungwoo says, "I told you: Subin promised."

Chan frowns at that, not because of the idea of Subin and Seungwoo making a promise that is that important to Seungwoo, but because he can't remember if he's made the same kind of promises to Seungwoo before.

How many promises has Chan forgotten in the past three years? The mere fact that he broke up with Seungwoo and then dropped out of the trainee program is already showcasing him breaking one of their promises, probably the most important one: _Let's debut together_. And before that, _Let's debut together_ was _Let's make a hit song together_. There might have been another one before that one, too; something along the lines of _Let's chase our dreams together_ before they went around auditioning here and there. The guilt that settles in his chest after remembering the last one has Chan playing with his hands again. This time he pulls too hard at the skin around his nail and it lets out a dribble of blood.

"Hey," Chan starts, only continuing after hearing Seungwoo hum, making sure that he's listening, "what if I helped you out? You know, I could dance in the video—make it a performance one, all artistic and stuff."

It's difficult to look at Seungwoo, but Chan can't miss the expression on Seungwoo's face as he throws the offer out there. Seungwoo looks at him with wide eyes, astonished. The corners of his lips don't threaten to pull back like before, but Chan recognizes that same delight in his voice when he asks, "Channie, you'd do that for me?"

"Of course," he laughs a little awkwardly. Seungwoo's tone is a little too sincere for comfort. "It's only dancing, hyung."

The words sit heavily between them.

"Thank you, Chan."

Seungwoo pauses.

"I missed you."

Chan closes his eyes, and without looking, he reaches out and grabs Seungwoo's hand. He doesn't reply.

**SEVEN.**

It's the weirdest thing, because even though Chan sees Seungwoo's return into his life as a sign that he's not yet a 'new' Chan, he still meets with Do Hanse.

It happens after Seungwoo leaves him at the river bank. Chan bids his goodbye and then stays until the sky fully darkens and turns black, watching the city lights reflect off the water as he considers buying something to eat before going home. He's ignoring his phone in case Hanse texted Maya after being stood up and now everyone's angry at him, but he gets so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the tattoo'd guy who walks up to him.

"Excuse me," the guy says, "are you... Heo Chan?"

"Huh? Oh, shit."

Do Hanse stands in front of him, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. He looks thoroughly amused by Chan. "So it is you," he says, and then laughs a little after Chan fails to say anything—he probably looks like a fool, or like a student caught playing hooky. "I thought something came up when you didn't show up, but I didn't expect to find you here all spaced out."

Chan hurries to apologize. "Shit, Hanse, I'm so sorry. I should've let you know, but it completely slipped from my mind—"

"Hey, it's okay. Maya did warn me you might chicken out—something about you not being ready to date again?—so I didn't wait for you that long. Funny that I ran into you here, though."

Without asking if Chan wants company, Hanse plops down next to him, right where Seungwoo sat not too long ago. Do Hanse smiles at him and Chan stares at the way Hanse's lips pull back, stares at his lip piercing, and thinks that it might not be a bad idea to spend the rest of the night with someone other than Seungwoo. The fire under his skin subsides and Chan is left cold and empty, so having someone else with him to keep him warm isn't too bad. He'd been thinking of going to Seungsik's, anyway. Maybe a stranger—as opposed to his childhood friend—would be better if he decides to cry about Han Seungwoo again.

He answers when Hanse asks, "So what's up with you?" and the two of them spend a few hours merely talking. They even order food after it gets late and their stomachs start rumbling. It's refreshing; Hanse and him hit it off great, just as how the girls said they would. It feels so nice to meet someone new, someone who doesn't know the Chan that existed before he dyed his hair blond and wore someone else's leather jacket.

"So this Han Seungwoo," Hanse starts saying, but then pauses to eat a cold, overly salted fry, "he's the something that came up, right? You ditched me to go with him."

"Yeah... Sorry about that."

"It's cool." Hanse shakes his head like he really doesn't mind. "I would also have ditched you for Han Seungwoo if given the chance."

Chan stares at him.

"I'm a fan," Hanse admits with a mischievous smile on his face. "I like his songs. He's criminally underrated, if you ask me."

Chan continues staring at him, suddenly thinking that maybe telling all of his problems to a perfect stranger is not, after all, the best idea. Hanse seems to read his mind and laughs heartily again. Telling Chan not to worry, that he's good at keeping secrets, Hanse bites into another fry as he winks Chan's way. It almost makes Chan's heart flutter. They might have truly been a great pair had Seungwoo not shown up.

"Why did you two break up again? It doesn't sound like either of you are over it."

"That's..." Chan shrugs. "I don't know. Things happened, I guess."

Hanse pushes, "What things, though? You're great at omitting details, by the way. I bet you go about life ignoring everything that doesn't spark joy."

"What the— I don't—"

Chan scoffs, and because he doesn't know what else to say, he scoffs again, this time with more feeling. Hanse laughs at his mannerisms and grabs the coke they're sharing, not pouring it into a plastic glass but drinking it straight from the bottle, cheekily wiggling his eyebrows at Chan.

Chan grumbles at him, and like he's been doing all night, Hanse merely laughs—Chan blames that laugh for what he says next.

"You want details? Fine. I'll tell you what happened."

**EIGHT.**

He and Hanse become pretty good friends after that night.

The group are over the moon at the news, with Maya and Seungsik being the ones personally keeping tabs on how the relationship is progressing, probably waiting until the second the two of them announce they're dating to throw the biggest celebratory party as an excuse to get shitfaced. Chan appreciates the support even if he and Hanse are nothing more than friends, but Hanse will sometimes have fun with it and kiss him in front of the others, always saying something along the lines of, 'What's a little kiss between two bros?' to drive Maya insane. Chan just lets it happen and then says nothing when it's just the two of them and Hanse lights a cigarette and tells him to get together with Han Seungwoo already.

One time Chan asked for a drag and then proceeded to cough his lungs out, and as always, Hanse laughed at him. That was the only time Chan considered replying, only to find himself with no idea as to what he could possibly say.

While he and Hanse grow closer, he and Seungwoo don't see each other for four months.

It almost feels like running into Seungwoo at the mall was some sort of hyper-realistic daydream. If it weren't for Hanse's words every time the two of them sneak off for a smoke break, he'd start thinking that he made it all up in his head. It's not like he and Seungwoo completely cut off contact again—they text from time to time, usually at night when Chan can't sleep and Seungwoo is up busy with something—but they never meet in person, much less dance together.

Chan doesn't regret the offer, but he grows more conflicted with each day that passes with no plans to shoot that music video. His muscles ache with the need to dance but he busies himself with part-time jobs and club activities instead, deciding that he won't do anything until he has the demo for Seungwoo's song, sure that he's not going to have to choreograph it himself. Even if he had to, he'd first need the song to do it.

The only thing that Seungwoo says is, "My comeback has been pushed back a little," and then asks for him to wait a little more. And Chan does wait. Compared to three years without seeing Seungwoo, a few months with nothing but DMs and late-night calls pass by in no time at all.

Then he gets the text.

Chan feels weird standing in front of the company building. He spends a long time simply staring at it, phone in hand in case Seungwoo calls to ask where he is, but Chan almost feels like he's lost track of time and space, standing outside the company building and expecting a call from Seungwoo. It's just like three years ago. Chan has to close his eyes and remind himself of what's currently happening in his life—what year it is; what university he's attending; what color Hanse and Haemi dyed his hair last—all to avoid getting lost in the memories from his youth.

"Oh! Heochan-hyung, that you?"

Chan would recognize that voice anywhere, but it's not the familiar tone what gives the person standing behind him away. It's the fact that there are exactly three people who use Chan's full name at all times specifically to annoy him, and the other two are Seungsik and Haemi.

He turns around and smiles at the blue-haired idol. "Sejunnie, hey."

Sejun stands in front of him like a completely different person except for his timeless, goofy smile. His clothes are different—they seem to be from the _really_ good brands—and his hair is styled perfectly with a face full of makeup. The person who Chan assumes to be Sejun's manager is standing a little further away; he guesses that Sejun is back from a schedule.

Sejun, who must be dead tired, shows none of it as he smiles widely at Chan. "You remember me!"

"Of course I remember you," he scoffs, letting himself be pulled into the hug he knew was coming. Sejun hugs him like you hug a friend you haven't seen in ages, which Chan guesses is true; it's just good to see that Sejun doesn't hold any bad feelings towards him. "You're doing so well, it'd be really weird if I were able to forget you."

Sejun whines, "Then stop acting like you did! Text me sometime! Shoot me a DM! And yeah, I know what that means now! Actually, it was this kid, Subin, who—"

The two of them enter the building linked by the arm, Sejun greeting everyone they pass by and Chan awkwardly bowing his head to people who might or might not remember him, as well as new staff members and trainees who look at him with curious eyes. At least Chan avoids the unwanted trip down memory lane thanks to Sejun, who talks his ear off all the way to the 4th floor dance practice room. Chan learns more about Jung Subin and he laughs loudly at Sejun's idol shenanigans. Seungwoo doesn't come up until they're both inside the room, fooling around in front of the mirror like old times.

"By the way, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Chan cocks his head to the side, staring at Sejun through the mirror. "Seungwoo and I ran into each other a few months ago."

Sejun gasps. "So you two are talking again?!"

The way Sejun says it, something about it reminds Chan of the fact that Seungwoo is the one producing Sejun's songs. The two of them must be close now, working together for Sejun's albums, the only two left from the original trio. Just like how Chan sometimes finds himself clinging to Seungsik in the nights he's hit by nostalgia and an oppressive sense of loneliness, these two must have their moments, too. He's suddenly wondering what they talk about when Chan's name comes up. Does Seungwoo talk about him? Does he cry, too?

"He didn't tell you?" Chan asks.

"You said you met a few months ago? He's been busy working on his own album for some time now. We haven't really talked since _Chasing Fire_ dropped."

"That so?"

Sejun nods. He starts telling Chan about what's been going on at the company, something about Seungwoo suddenly cancelling his comeback plans to start working on a completely new song and album to go with it, but stops when Chan's phone buzzes with an incoming call. The two of them pause after seeing Seungwoo's caller ID.

"You two really are talking again," Sejun says, almost as if he's only now believing it. The expression on his face is an odd one when he continues in an uncharacteristically small voice, "Not sure if that's a good thing or not."

Chan doesn't ask why—he remembers Hanse's words; thinks this doesn't spark joy—and takes the call instead.

**NINE.**

Seungwoo tells him to go to one of the meeting rooms on the 2nd floor.

Chan and Sejun hug again with a promise to keep in touch, even locking pinkies at Sejun's insistence. It's the kind of promise that Chan isn't sure if they'll keep or not; the two of them aren't great at keeping their promises, having a long history of promises formed on top of the forgotten remains of broken ones. He does hope they keep it this time, though. Ignoring Sejun's words right before the call, Chan gets the impression that there's no hard feelings between them, so maybe they'll be able to go back to being the good friends they were before Sejun debuted and Chan dropped out. He really hopes they keep their promise this time.

It's hard to stop thinking about Sejun as Chan makes his way to the meeting room. Sejun, who sang Seungwoo's song, who performed the choreo that Chan later copied and showed to his own college friends, who was the third in the Seungwoo-Chan relationship after Seungsik refused to audition with them—if that Sejun doesn't think that them being friends again is a good thing, and if Seungsik himself is still avoiding talking about it, what does that mean for Seungwoo and Chan?

Is this a good idea?

Chan pauses outside the meeting room, watching through the glass wall how Seungwoo is lost in thought, headphones over his ears, listening to something on his phone.

Should he dance for Seungwoo for old time's sake, or for something more?

"Seungwoo-hyung!"

Seungwoo takes a second to take off the headphones. Chan watches as he goes from serious and absorbed in the music to a ball of sunshine, eyes glinting and smiling so wide at Chan as he says, "Channie, there you are! I was worried you'd get lost on your way here."

"It hasn't been that long, hyung," he laughs, taking a seat in front of Seungwoo at one end of the long table. "I still remember this place well enough."

"Well, we didn't exactly spend most of our time on the 2nd floor, did we?"

Chan nods. "And now look at you."

Seungwoo's smile turns a little bashful. He rubs at the back of his neck before saying, "These days it seems like I'm always here if I'm not at my studio. I only really drop by the practice rooms to check on the kids—you know, bring them snacks and stuff."

The practice rooms. Chan could bring up his running into Sejun, going all the way to the dance room on the 4th floor just to chat and fool around for a bit; maybe go down memory lane with Seungwoo after trying so hard not to do that earlier. It might be nice, Chan reasons. It might make them talk—like _really_ talk. So he almost does it, but then the words die at the tip of his tongue because he remembers Sejun's words, _Not sure if that's a good thing or not_ , and Chan _really_ doesn't want to think about that.

So all Chan says is, "That's sweet," and nods a few times before they get onto the business part of the meeting.

It's just the two of them in the room. Seungwoo explains a bit of what he's been doing the past few months, mentions most of what Sejun told Chan about scrapping all previous plans for his comeback to start anew, and then he moves closer to Chan to show him a video on his phone.

"This is the choreography demo," Seungwoo explains. "It's made by one of our dance teachers—remember Olivia? She helped me a lot with it."

He hums, waiting for Seungwoo to play the video, but the silence stretches a bit too long. Chan turns to look at Seungwoo and finds that he has a faint blush on his cheeks, catching him right as he wets his lips in a somewhat nervous manner.

Chan patiently waits for him to continue talking. It takes a bit, and when Seungwoo finally speaks, he does it while pointedly avoiding looking at Chan.

"It, uh, ended up being a duet."

It takes a moment for Chan to realize what that entails.

A duet... The two of them dancing together, like back in the old times. The idea of dancing with Seungwoo again is an exhilarating one; it makes Chan's blood rush and his muscles ache with the need to do it. Like something you feel in your bones, Chan has no idea how to describe this feeling other than it's a right one. For Chan and Seungwoo to be in front of the mirror, side by side, listening to the same music, feeling the same beats, moving and breathing and even sweating the same—it sounds correct. A mathematical equation that has only one answer and Chan dancing alone is the wrong one. Of course this is a duet, he thinks. That's just how things are meant to be.

"Alright."

"Y-you're fine with it?"

Chan sees determination in his own eyes when he nods to his reflection on the phone screen. Then he nods at Seungwoo, adding a smile for good measure.

"A duet sounds good," he nods. A duet sounds _excellent_ , actually. "Plus, it's just the demo, right? We can always change anything we don't like. Olivia's a really good choreographer, though, so I don't think that's going to happen."

Chan sees perfectly what Seungwoo is going to do next: he's going to take a moment to simply stare a Chan, maybe thinking of how unbelievable he is, maybe considering him crazy for being okay with such a last-minute change that Chan had no say in before the demo was planned out and recorded; but then he'll do a little huff, and he's going to smile so bright and so wide that Chan will feel his heart flutter and Chan will think that he made the right decision by ditching his date with Hanse that day.

Except that Seungwoo does none of that.

He hesitates before smiling, sure, but there's something about it that makes Chan pause. Seungwoo's smile isn't big and dumb and lovable, either—it's small, merely having his lips pulled back, not even a row of teeth showing. "You should watch the demo before anything else," Seungwoo says with a wince, and Chan frowns.

Before Chan can ask any questions, Seungwoo leans in to press play on the phone, and the two of them watch in silence as Seungwoo and Olivia begin dancing to a song Chan has never heard before—and yet it feels so familiar.

**TEN.**

Before he knows it, a month has gone by and winter is rapidly approaching. The weather is completely different from the summer days he spent at the club room with his friends, dancing to Sejun's songs, swiping left on guys and girls, dyeing his hair bright colors and daydreaming about becoming a Chan who does that all the time—a Chan who goes on dates and has fun hanging out with his club members and dancing and has no past to repress.

Chan thinks he's succeeded, partially. He's a new Chan for sure; maybe not the person he wanted to be those five months ago, but he's not the same person he was three and a half years before, either. He's not even the same person who got tired of being on his own and joined Seungsik's club a year earlier even though he's never had that much interest in animation. Chan really does think he's in a different place in life. It only becomes more obvious when he compares himself to his pre-university days, but he tries to avoid that because his mind will usually go back to Seungwoo, and Chan doesn't think he's completely past that Seungwoo.

He did admit to himself he's still in love with Seungwoo, that day at the mall. Then he completely avoided thinking about that; didn't even bring it up to Seungsik, whom he usually tells everything, even the things Chan pretends don't exist. But now, with the music coming from the speakers so loud that it makes the floor vibrate, he's once again reminded of that little fact.

Chan dances as if the music is what makes him move, as if he'll turn to stone the moment the song ends, and he loves Seungwoo.

Chan dances as if dancing is the one thing he was born to do, as if he's finally tending to his true calling and he feels right at home in front of the mirror, his shoes squeaking over the wooden floor, and he loves Seungwoo.

Chan dances as if his skin is set on fire and the temperature only goes up whenever Seungwoo touches him—a hand on his waist, another sliding up his arm, a twirl and then they're close, close, _close_ , and Chan thinks that if Seungoo were to kiss him right then, he'd burst into flames and his bones would turn to dust—and he loves Seungwoo. 

He loves Seungwoo.

Maybe it's because he's dancing, but Chan doesn't feel the tiredness in his bones or the shortness of breath that have haunted him ever since they broke up. Maybe it's because Seungwoo is dancing right next to him, but Chan can say the words freely inside him: 'I love Seungwoo,' like a mantra that he repeats since the very moment the song starts up until the last second before it ends, and then it loops again, and the two of them start dancing again, and he just can't stop.

"Wait, wait, let's take a break," Seungwoo suddenly says. He breaks from the formation and goes to where his phone is hooked to the audio system and changes the song to one of Sejun's, but Chan still hears Seungwoo's song and continues dancing on his own, thinking that he never wants to stop.

This goes on for a few more pieces, each of them vastly different from the last, but Chan dances to the choreography he's learnt by heart without making a single mistake.

"Channie," Seungwoo calls out after a while. Chan ignores him to do a twirl, but he nearly loses his balance when a hand suddenly wraps around his upper arm. It's Seungwoo, and he looks at Chan with a gentleness that makes Chan's legs feel weak. "Let's take a break. C'mon, drink some water while I order us some food."

"Hyung."

Seungwoo stops on his way back to his phone and turns around to give Chan a curious look, and the words that Chan thought could only come out while dancing nearly spill from his lips right there and then.

It scares him, so he hurries to say the first thing that comes to mind that isn't an embarrassing love confession. He puts a hand over his stomach, rubs two circles, almost pouts in an embarrassing attempt to look cute, and tells Seungwoo, "I want something sweet."

Chan watches as Seungwoo nods at him, even sending him a thumbs up accompanied with a goofy smirk. It makes Chan puff out a laugh, but the amused feeling soon gives into something that he recognizes as relief, just glad that he hasn't had a slip of tongue yet. The past month has been filled with practices that end up in him nearly admitting his feelings, and every time he's about to say the words, he thinks that Seungwoo must know... and yet it never seems to be that way. It might just be Seungwoo purposely hiding away the fact that he knows Chan's true feelings, or it might just be him pulling a Chan and refusing to acknowledge a simple truth—a simple truth that, if Chan doesn't express it with words, then he surely does express it with his body when they dance together.

Oh.

That's it.

Chan doesn't dance as if it's the last time he'll ever dance—

Chan dances as if this is the only time he'll ever get the chance to tell Seungwoo that he loves him.

The realization is washed away with the cold water that feels heavenly against Chan's skin. He takes a few long gulps before collapsing on the floor, dragging his body to sit against the wall and watch as Seungwoo bobs his head to the music while scrolling down the delivery app. It's only now that Chan realizes they're listening to another of Sejun's songs, recognizing the idol's voice immediately. It takes him only a second longer to recognize the familiar tune of _Chasing Fire_.

"Oh man," Chan sighs, "I'd dance to this if I could still feel my legs."

"You need to take it easier," Seungwoo scolds him from across the room. "This isn't the kind of comeback that idols rush in just two weeks. We can take our time, Channie. Stop dancing like you will never dance again."

Seungwoo's choice of words make Chan laugh. After just dancing for some hours without a break, it comes out as a wheeze. He can't help it when he muses out loud, "Wasn't I also dancing to one of your songs, that time? You know, three years ago."

Chan sees the way Seungwoo freezes, sees the way Seungwoo immediately tries to hide it, and maybe Chan should take that as a sign to shut his mouth. Usually, that's what he would do. But he feels high on the adrenaline from dancing after avoiding it for so long and Chan rides that high wherever it'll take him, even if it's back to those times he's forced himself to forget. He feels sorry for Seungwoo, but it's been three fucking years, and as scared shitless as he is right now, Chan finally feels like talking.

"Yeah," he nods to himself. "We were dancing to one of your songs. Everyone else had gone back to the dorms but we'd stayed behind, like we used to do, remember?"

"Channie—"

"It's not your fault, hyung," Chan cuts through Seungwoo's worried tone. He doesn't mean to sound so forceful, but maybe it's what they need to get it through their thick skulls. "Just like if I were to twist my ankle dancing right now, it wouldn't be your fault but mine."

Looking down at his hands, picturing the blood that once dribbled down his thumb so long ago, Chan can't help but whisper his next words—and yet he still hopes that Seungwoo hears them.

"It's always been my fault."

**ELEVEN.**

Sejun's singing voice bounces off the walls. Chan doesn't bother making out the lyrics of the song, simply feeling them under his nails and at the back of his tongue. Eventually, he lifts his head and holds Seungwoo's gaze, not exactly knowing how to describe the expression Seungwoo is showing. It's not one Chan's seen before. He's running out of memories to compare the present to, so he does his best trying to decipher what Seungwoo's eyes are telling him, but all he finds is sadness and Chan really doesn't think he can deal with that right now. He doesn't think he could bear to dance with a Seungwoo who looks at him like that when Chan isn't looking.

He's not sure if Seungwoo's ordered their food yet, but Chan feels restless. He wants to keep dancing. Trying his best to stand on wobbly legs, he makes his way to the center of the room and lazily moves to the music, trying to get a feel for it before freestyling something.

"Rest a little more," Seungwoo scolds him again. Chan almost thinks he's serious, but then the song changes to _Chasing Fire_ again, and Chan tries to think if there's anything sadder than this.

Wordlessly complying to Seungwoo's silent request, Chan starts dancing.

He feels the burning of Seungwoo's eyes at the back of his neck the whole time. It lights his skin on fire and makes him forget about the food, the exhaustion, the past and the future. It makes him forget whose song he's dancing to, if it's Sejun's or Seungwoo's or Chan's. Right now, at some unspecified time of the night, inside the same room where he wasted away his teen years, in front of the same mirror he once fucked Seungwoo against, wearing the same clothes from back then but with hair dyed silver and nails painted red—it's just Chan, dancing, and Seungwoo's gaze sitting heavily on him.

It's just Chan, dancing his heart out in front of the mirror while Seungwoo watches from the back of the room. It's Chan asking Seungwoo to join him again. It's Seungwoo never answering.

The song ends and Chan is left panting, partnerless, and cold. Seungwoo's new song starts playing immediately after, Chan nearly bursting out crying at Seungwoo's soft tone singing with such sorrow about a love previously thought to be long lost, and he can't stop himself from turning to Seungwoo, asking through what might be sweat or tears in his eyes, "Hyung, why did you scrap your album after I said I'd dance for you?"

Everything's coming together. Chan's finally letting himself say the things he wants to say, letting himself remember the things he wants to forget, and he hates this, he hates this so much—but he has to know. They already touched on Chan's injury; they can talk about Seungwoo's song.

"Hyung," he calls out again in something akin to a plea.

Seungwoo does nothing for a couple of long, long seconds. He's still sitting by the audio system, still looking at Chan with an expression that Chan just can't read, and for a moment, Chan fears that Seungwoo won't go to him—he'll unplug his phone and leave the room without a word and Chan will be left alone and cold forever. Chan pictures that happening and desperately tries to remember who he was before Seungwoo came back to his life, tries to think if there's anyone to mend his heart after Seungwoo walks out on him, if Seungsik will hold him or if Hanse will kiss the sadness away—but it's too painful and Chan doesn't want that, anyway. He just wants Seungwoo. All he ever wanted was Seungwoo, and all he'll ever want will be him.

"Hyung," he tries again, and his voice breaks now.

Why is Seungwoo just sitting there, doing nothing when Chan is bursting at the seams, nearly falling on his knees to beg Seungwoo for an answer? Is this his way of taking revenge on Chan, who's never learned how to communicate properly? Is this his way of getting back at him for doing the same three years ago? But Chan's different now. He's _trying_. He's doing his goddamn best just to get a happy ending here.

He wants to curse. He wants to spit at the ground and demand, 'Speak, goddammit.' Chan wipes angrily at his cheeks and keeps his mouth shut the whole time. All Seungwoo does is look heartbroken from the back of the room, not moving, not saying anything, simply boring holes at the back of Chan's neck as Chan starts dancing again.

"I didn't want you to dance to a sad song."

Chan stops in the middle of a canon he can't do on his own. He turns towards Seungwoo, thinking that he's exhausted all his energy for tonight. "What did you say?"

"The reason I scrapped the album." Seungwoo finally leaves the comfortable space near his phone and gets closer to Chan, keeping a little distance, wearing a small, sad smile that reminds Chan of that day at the overpass. "All the songs I've written about you have been sad and desperate—"

Seungwoo doesn't finish his sentence. He looks like he wants to, but then he thinks better of it and simply shuffles a little closer. Every move of his body looks like one he'll do right before reaching out for Chan's hand, but he never does it.

"When I realized that you'd be dancing to one of my songs, I couldn't stand the idea of you dancing to something like that. I mean, you are _Heo Chan_." Seungwoo pauses after letting out an incredulous laugh, as if Chan's name means something. "You make the room light up with your laugh and then proceed to take everyone's breath away the moment the music starts and you get moving."

Seungwoo's brow furrows and his expression almost looks painful. It's the complete opposite of what Chan imagines— Actually, what he _wishes_ someone would look like while describing him. The fact that Seungwoo looks so pitiful while recalling Chan's memory is a dead giveaway of something Chan's been suspecting: Seungwoo feels the same as Chan does when thinking about the past.

Or maybe it's the next thing Seungwoo says what's causing such a sorrowful expression. He says, "I felt so bad when you got injured because you look the happiest when you dance, and the more I thought of you dancing to songs like _Chasing Fire_... I just couldn't stand it."

Chan thinks that he just might cry.

"What do you— Didn't I tell you that _Chasing Fire_ is my favorite song?" he asks instead. "It's a _good_ song, hyung; I like dancing to it. Don't— Don't act as if me dancing to it is a _bad_ thing." 

"I'm sorry," Seungwoo says for some reason. "That song shouldn't have been released. It was a song _about_ you; not _for_ you."

"Hyung—"

"You shouldn't dance to songs that sad."

Chan frowns, not because he doesn't understand what Seungwoo's saying but because he doesn't _like_ it.

"It started with me wanting to make a new title, but the more I worked on it, the less I felt like it fit the rest of the album," Seungwoo keeps talking with that expression on his face. "I ended up remaking all of it... That's why it took so long for me to finish it. I don't mind, though—even if it took years off my life, I'd still take my time if it meant making the perfect song for you."

"I didn't want a perfect song," Chan cries. His voice is tainted with the clear tone of frustration. This is so stupid. They're so stupid. This is why they don't work: they're never on the same page, always wanting different things and never meeting halfway. Had it not been for their shared dream, Chan is sure they would have fallen out sooner, and maybe that would've been for the best; it wouldn't have given them time to fall so deeply for each other. "All I wanted was to dance with you."

It's only after saying the words out loud that it hits him.

As Chan watches Seungwoo standing just out of reach, he's completely sure of what he still wants to this day—to dance with Seungwoo; nothing less, nothing more. But he also questions for the very first time what it is that Seungwoo wants.

The most obvious answer is, maybe all Seungwoo's ever wanted is to watch Chan dance from the back of the room, never joining him, simply content with knowing someone like Chan—someone named _Heo Chan_ like there's idols named Lim Sejun and producers named Han Seungwoo and extraordinary people named Do Hanse—could dance so freely, so beautifully, only to come back crawling to him as soon as the music ends. Like a creature that Seungwoo sets free with each song he composes, another proof of love to add to a collection kept by runtime.

Chan knew this when he followed Seungwoo that day at the mall.

It makes him laugh the most absurd, bitter laugh. They are truly so stupid. And they could never say any of this out loud, never communicate properly so the two of them could know what's causing them so much pain—but maybe that's what they like. Maybe the two of them like the pain. 

Chan's getting burned by Han Seungwoo and it hurts so fucking much, but he can't say that he totally hates it, either.

And maybe Seungwoo also enjoys the shows that Heo Chan puts on in front of the mirrors.

Maybe the two of them are just that messed up.

**TWELVE.**

"So how's that duo thing going?"

"Duo thing?" Chan frowns. "Oh, you mean the duet?"

Hanse nods and takes a long drag of his cig. Chan watches the way his friend holds it in for a few seconds before blowing the smoke away from them, accidentally hitting some guy walking down the street. Hanse's already apologizing when the guy coughs and stops and glares at him, but Chan gets in the way, glaring right back and not stopping until the guy begrudgingly keeps walking away from them.

All Hanse does is giggle. "My hero," he says, voice dripping with irony. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"I'd love to see you on your own, actually. Hey, gimme—" Impulsively asking for a drag, Chan takes the menthol cigarette from Hanse's offering hand and puts it in his mouth, inhaling sharply in a way that is probably wrong. At least he doesn't cough this time; he's getting better at the whole smoking thing, probably. "Why do you think I keep you company when you smoke? You're like a cat raised by puppies. You're so confident and trusting—I need to be here else you'll get your face bitten off one of these days."

"What the hell." Hanse bites off a laugh and kicks Chan's shoe with his boot. "I did just fine before I met you, just so you know. I'm still alive and kickin', aren't I?"

"Yeah, I can see that."

Hanse takes the cigarette from him and finishes what's left of it. He's about to throw it to the sidewalk when a knock stops him, and the two of them turn towards the convenience store behind them, where Seungsik and Haemi are eating at the stools in front of the window. Seungsik is frowning at them and does a thumbs down that has Hanse sighing, putting out the cigarette on the sole of his boot before sticking the butt in his pocket.

Hanse whines, "What can I do when there are no bins around? I should quit smoking. Such a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, quit because it's an inconvenience and not because of your health or something."

"Shut up, you smoke too."

Chan sighs, barely seeing his breath in the cold winter night. He guesses he does, now—smoke, that is. Although it used to be very occasionally and just if he happened to be with Hanse, he's getting the urge more and more often these days, sometimes craving a cig as soon as he steps out of the company building after a practice session with Seungwoo.

Right. The duet.

"We're nearly done with it," Chan says. Hanse seems to have forgotten that he even asked, so Chan reminds him: "The duo thing?" and then explains a bit of how that's going. He mentions Seungwoo's comeback, which will be announced soon and is expected to be at the end of next month, as well as the plans to shoot the music video next week. He sighs again before complaining about not having anything to do for some time. "Just until Seungwoo starts promoting on music shows."

Hanse cocks his head to the side, blond mullet falling over his shoulders. "So you'll even go on stage with him? I thought you'd only help with the MV."

"Me too." He's still deciding on how to feel about getting to be on stage after all. Is it still his dream? Chan still feels his best when he dances for others, but everything's so different when he dances with Seungwoo—there's no reason for him to think that being on stage will be any different. "Turns out there's an alternative version of the choreo that Seungwoo will perform on his own. The company really liked the idea of a duet, though; they want us to dance together a few times. The video will also have our version, I believe."

"That's so cool," Hanse sighs dreamily. Chan looks at his friend and sees the way his eyes shine with wonder, getting reminded of the fact that Hanse is, in fact, a fan of Han Seungwoo.

"What is? What are you two talking about while we're not here?"

Byungchan's cheery voice resonates loudly in the empty street corner. He walks towards them carrying three plastic bags full of what Chan assumes are snacks; Maya trails behind him carrying just one bag, holding a six-pack on the other. Chan steps to the side in case Seungsik and Haemi are also there—he tries to spot them but they seem to be taking their sweet time finishing their food inside.

Hanse seems to be thinking the same thing. He asks, "What's with the other two? They're taking forever."

"They had their food and then went to the back to buy ice cream. But those two—" Byungchan exhales loudly, very much exaggerating his exasperation. "They're just bickering in front of the freezer instead of buying anything."

"The usual bickering or the sexually charged banter?"

Maya looks at them with dead eyes. "What do you think."

Hanse breaks into laughter, the ugly kind that has Maya kicking him on the shin and threatening to bash the six-pack over his head, which she would be totally capable of doing if it were anything other than their precious beer. It makes Chan smile as well, although it's more of a reflexive thing he does after Hanse laughs at literally anything. He's being reminded again of that thought he had that night, when the five of them hadn't been acquainted with Hanse yet and Chan cried on Seungsik's shoulder about Han Seungwoo. He remembers how just a few minutes before doing that, he'd felt... lonely. With Haemi and Seungsik looking like they're going to start dating anytime now, and Maya and Byungchan being closer than ever, Chan is bound to feel lonely. It unnerves him a little that he still feels this way even with Hanse by his side.

"Hey," he calls out some time later. They're all walking towards Maya's place to drink and spend the night there, with Haemi and Seungsik trying to defend themselves for failing to bring enough ice cream for everyone after finally getting out of the store. Chan is at the back of the group and he calls for Hanse, who also falls back a little, the two of them able to talk quietly while the rest get rowdy ahead.

"What's up?"

"You asked about the duo thing earlier."

Hanse looks confused for a second, but he quickly nods and shuffles a little closer, eyes curious. Although Hanse doesn't say anything, Chan has a feeling that he's picked up on the fact that Chan really only talks about Han Seungwoo with him.

"You keep telling me to get together with him—"

Chan stops, the words getting caught at his throat. He licks his lips in a nervous habit he picked up from Sejun—the two of them have been running into each other quite a bit after that day, occasionally hanging out and everything—and thinks of his next words very carefully.

Unfortunately, all he comes up with is, "Why?"

"Huh?" Hanse blinks. "What do you mean, 'Why?'"

"You're the only one who thinks we should be together. Everyone else is—"

Chan sighs. Seungsik is right up ahead, arm around Haemi's waist while the other is thrown over Byungchan's shoulders. He looks so happy, smiling so wide and laughing so hard, and it's nothing like when he and Chan talk about Seungwoo. They don't even do that anymore.

"Anyone who knows us," he starts, "anyone who knows how me and Seungwoo were while we dated and how we were when we broke up—they all think it's a bad idea. None of them say it, but I know what they think. Sejun when he sees us dance and Seungsik when I tell him where I've been—they all think the same. No one wants this. They all think we would be better off staying out of each other's life."

"But why do you think they—" Hanse suddenly bites his lip, teeth getting caught on his lip ring. His hand wraps around Chan's wrist and before Chan knows what's happening, Hanse is calling out to their friends, "Guys, we're gonna go buy some smokes. You all go ahead; we'll catch up."

The others nod at them, although Maya scrunches up her nose in distaste. She spits at them, "That thing's gonna kill you, you know?"

"I'm aware."

The two of them stand side by side on the sidewalk, Hanse's hand sliding to interlock their fingers as they watch Maya shrug before she leads the rest of their friends towards her house. They keep their silence until the group disappears behind a corner. Chan is well aware of the full pack that Hanse has hidden in his jacket, flavored cigs that he bought at the convenience store less than an hour ago.

Chan looks at their hands and asks, "Are we really going to buy smokes?"

Hanse answers instantly, voice purposeful, leaving no room for Chan to complain.

"Oh no, you and I are going to have a talk."

**THIRTEEN.**

Hanse has him walking around the unfamiliar zone until they find a well-lit park they can sit at. Chan still has some idea of where they're located so getting to Maya's house from there shouldn't be a problem, but from the way Hanse brings him to the small playground and has him sit on the floor of a rundown merry-go-round, it doesn't look like they'll be leaving the park anytime soon.

Hanse sits next to him and puts his feet on the ground, stopping the roundabout from moving. Chan expects him to light a cigarette but Hanse forgoes that, getting straight to the point. "You and me need to have a talk about Han Seungwoo."

"About what?"

"About wh— Are you serious?" Hanse scoffs, incredulous. "What's going on between you two? And be honest, hyung. With me and with yourself."

Chan takes a second to process the words, almost thinking that he heard wrong. Did Hanse just call him hyung? Chan's taken aback by that, staring at Hanse and thinking, Wow, he must really be serious about this talk. From day one Hanse's been an unrespectful little shit, but it's kind of like their thing—they can talk with ease about things that Chan doesn't tell his college friends and Hanse doesn't tell, well, anyone. Chan doesn't really mind that Hanse doesn't treat him like he treats Seungsik or anyone else; it's part of what makes them pretty good friends.

So maybe he _should_ be honest with Hanse—with Hanse _and_ with himself.

Chan sighs. That's much easier said than done.

"It's... It's complicated."

"Of course it's complicated." Hanse pats Chan on the thigh, understanding flashing through his features. "Listen, I know things are messy between you two. You told me what happened some years ago, remember? There's history between you two, and now, dancing to a sexy song—"

Chan can't help but scoff. "It's not a _sexy_ song." Among everything going on, he can at least be sure of that.

Hanse looks unsure, though. "What's the song about, again?"

"It's..." Chan makes vague gestures with his hands. He knows what it's about because he's danced to it for over a month already, he knows it in his bones at this point, but explaining it to someone else is surprisingly hard. "It's a song about getting back the love you once thought to be lost forever. But—" Chan puts his finger up before Hanse can say anything. "I know what you're thinking, and no, it's not a _love_ song, either. It might sound like a love song if you just listen to it, but when you watch us dance, you realize that it's... desperate."

"Desperate?"

Chan nods at Hanse and to himself. Yeah, desperate sounds like a good word to describe the song—to describe them.

"If only I could show you... You'd immediately get what I mean."

He does have the demo with Olivia and Seungwoo on his phone, but it's just so different from the finished product that he and Seungwoo ended up making together—Chan has no idea if it's because of the choreo itself or if it's because it's the two of them dancing. Now that he thinks about it, the choreo _is_ a little suggestive at parts, but he still wouldn't call it _sexy_. They don't do _sexy_. They—

"There's a push-n-pull," he continues explaining, "that makes you question if it's actually a good idea to be getting that love back—if it's born out of genuine feelings or if it isn't something closer to obsession."

Chan pauses.

Desperation and obsessiveness... Is _that_ what they do?

He wonders if that's really what they do—who they _are_ —or if he's just getting in his head, overthinking things, seeing the worst things about themselves instead of everything else.

Chan sighs and reaches into Hanse's pocket, taking out the pack and grabbing a cig for himself. Hanse just lets him, even looking for his lighter to throw it at Chan, but Chan grabs it and merely plays with it for a bit. What's that thing that Hanse told Maya right before breaking from the group? _That thing's gonna kill you, you know; I'm aware_. Chan lets the cigarette hang limp in his mouth, not being able to light it.

Meanwhile, Hanse stays silent as he muses over Chan's words.

What he says next nearly has Chan spitting out the cigarette.

"Oh, dude, that is so horny."

"H-horny? Did you not hear anything I just said? It's _desperate_. It's— It's _sad_. The beat goes hard; Seungwoo's voice is full of heartbreak as he sings about something that should be light and fun and everything you ever wanted. The only thing keeping you from feeling uncomfortable should be that the song is catchy as fuck."

"I can't believe you just said all that and still not believe the song is horny."

Chan can do nothing but look at Hanse as if there's no way his friend's a real person. Hanse is unreal at times. It makes Chan sigh and roll his eyes, thinking distantly about how they'd be on their way to Maya's house already if they had gone to buy smokes like they said.

And Hanse keeps pushing, every word that comes out of his mouth feeling like a punch to Chan's side. "Seriously, you two dancing to a song like that? Talk about sexual tension. I wouldn't want to be in the same room while you two practice—I imagine you two would randomly start making out mid-song and I'd just have to deal with that."

Although Hanse's tone is pretty light—almost teasing, as it often is—Chan can't help but think about the many practices he's had with Seungwoo. About them dancing together, the hands on Chan's body, the looks he gives Seungwoo, the twirl, their shortening distance—and the many thoughts he's had about Seungwoo and him kissing right after. Actually, maybe Hanse is right: maybe it _is_ a sexy song. And maybe them kissing in the middle of it is less of a fantasy and more of a reality waiting to happen. If anything, Chan doesn't think it would be out of place considering the song's theme. Maybe Seungwoo also thought about them kissing when composing it; when writing the lyrics; when working on the choreo with Olivia; when they practiced together and Chan was thinking the same thing

"Whatever," Chan sighs, deciding he's had enough of thinking about this in particular. "But, yeah, you're right: practice has been... tense, to say the least."

"That bad, huh?"

And Chan nods. He really can do nothing but nod and sigh again and take the cig from his mouth as he tells Hanse about how the past month and a half has been. Hanse is surprisingly quiet throughout the whole thing; he does chime in here and there, mainly asking questions whenever Chan is purposely vague, as if trying to pry the truth out of him—but otherwise, he behaves until Chan is finished.

Hanse stays quiet for a long time, seemingly deep in thought.

The first thing that he says is, "You want my honest opinion?" and that's what gets Chan to light the cigarette. After Chan takes the first drag and nods, albeit somewhat hesitant, Hanse drops it on him, "I still think you two should try dating again."

Somehow, it's not what Chan expected Hanse to say.

"...You think so?"

"Yeah," Hanse nods. "Listen, I don't know what Seungsik thinks, and I _definitely_ don't know what Lim Sejun thinks, but I know you."

Hanse smiles at him, arm reaching out through the roundabout seat, and Chan thinks he's going to pat him on the shoulder or something. He's surprised when Hanse takes the cigarette from his hand and throws it far away from the playground, not even putting it out—something that Seungsik would very much disapprove of

Chan frowns. "What the fuck, Hanse."

"Smoking doesn't suit you," Hanse shakes his head, the smirk on his face downright infuriating. Chan expects him to say something else; maybe elaborate on what exactly he means by that, to tell Chan _why_ smoking doesn't suit him, sure that Hanse will link it with Seungwoo somehow. And yet it never comes. Hanse just sits there, looking exactly like an asshole, maybe a little too confident that Chan won't take a swing at him one of these days.

"You are insane."

Hanse smiles at him and goes back to their conversation so rapidly that Chan feels whiplash.

"You were thinking about what I told Maya, right? How I said I'm aware that smoking will kill me and yet I still do it—you were thinking about how Seungwoo is like that for you, weren't you?"

The smirk on Hanse's face only grows the longer Chan stays silent, literally at a loss for words. Sometimes it terrifies him how well Hanse is able to read him. Hanse probably knows that as well, that fucker. "What the fuck," he says, again. And because this is truly unbelievable, he says it once more for good measure. "What the fuck, dude, do you know how to read fucking minds or— How the hell do you do that?"

Hanse has the gall to giggle at Chan's expression. "I told you, didn't I? I know you."

"God, you're insufferable. Forget about me ever going with you to make sure you don't get your ass beat during one of your smoke breaks."

"Sheesh, hyung, don't jinx me."

And with just one word, Chan is back again reminded of why they're not taking over Maya's house and drinking themselves stupid, sitting in the middle of an empty park instead.

Hanse seems to get back on track, his expression turning less annoying and more gentle, as if Chan's situation is a delicate one that Hanse's just glad to not be experiencing himself; it would come across as patronizing if Chan didn't know his friend better.

"I know how you feel," Hanse says again, slowly, as if making sure Chan is hanging on every word of his, "and it just seems like you're waiting for someone to tell you that it's okay to still want to be with Seungwoo. I mean, why else would you keep going to your friends as if asking for permission? You're an adult, Chan; if you want to let your heart be broken by a pretty boy then you can just go and do it."

Something about Hanse's words, the almost reproaching tone that he adopts near the end—it makes Chan laugh. He bites off a chuckle and then coughs into his elbow to avoid breaking into actual laughter. Hanse takes the opportunity to hit him hard on the shoulder, the conversation less serious all of the sudden. Chan is really getting whiplash here.

"So you're saying I'm looking for someone to enable me?"

"Yeah," Hanse nods. Then he puts a hand on his own chest, looking self-satisfied with the smug expression on his face. "But don't worry; I'm here to do just that."

Chan puffs out a laugh. "Oh, you are?"

"I mean, I've _been_ telling you to get together with Han Seungwoo this whole time... Damn, Chan. Just go and do it already, geez."

Chan actually laughs loudly this time. He laughs long and hard until his stomach hurts and Hanse is telling him to breathe. It's all very confusing—he can't exactly tell what he's feeling right now, so like how he tends to do when he's around Hanse, he simply laughs until there's no more air in his lungs and he has to catch his breath among wheezes and snarky words from Hanse. It feels like he should let Hanse know that he's not actually that funny, but Chan stays quiet for a couple of minutes after he manages to calm down.

When he finally speaks, the only thing he has to say is, "Do you really think I'll get my heart broken?"

"That's the worst case scenario, yeah." Hanse says that, but then gives him a smile—one that has Chan smiling back. "But I'll be there to pick up the pieces if you need me, you know that."

The light mood is still present. It makes it easy for Hanse to get his feet off the ground, letting Chan spin the roundabout to his heart's content. Although things are weird and Chan doesn't entirely understand what's happening and what he's feeling, he does feel the sincerity in Hanse's words. He knows that Hanse will be there if things with Seungwoo go wrong, just like how Seungsik was there before. The safety net that Chan's been looking for is finally there, and with a heavy weight off his shoulders, he actually lets himself imagine what it would be like to be with Seungwoo again.

To swing by Seungwoo's studio with coffee and some snacks; to take Seungwoo out for dinner on his days off; to snuggle with Seungwoo as he helps Chan choose an animation to watch for movie night at the club; to kiss Seungwoo and bite his lips until Seungwoo whines to let go, absolutely not meaning it; to fuck Seungwoo and bite his tongue and draw blood and lick it up like how Chan licked the blood from his thumb; to do all that and more.

Chan spins the merry-go-round faster and faster until he has to hang onto the seat to avoid falling off, gripping it so tight that his hands hurt as much as his heart does now.

He wants to kiss Seungwoo so _devastatingly_ bad.

**FOURTEEN.**

The thought refuses to leave him for the rest of the week. He thinks about kissing Seungwoo when he wakes up, as he showers, during his breaks at work, while hanging out with his friends, during practice— _especially_ when he practices with Seungwoo—and every time he thinks about smoking a cig, his mind goes to Seungwoo's lips instead.

Before he knows it, he's sharing a car with Seungwoo to the site where they'll be shooting the music video, and he thinks about kissing Seungwoo the whole ride there.

Things are a little different after they get started with the filming. It's a whole new world for Chan and he doesn't know what to do with himself while he's not being needed, so he spends the time with the people he meets as he clumsily makes his way through the job: the stylists who get him dressed in a black getup that compliments nicely Seungwoo's more dashing outfit; the makeup artists who keep gushing over Chan's lips; a few staff members in charge of various things all around the rented studio that he can bother without getting in the way of their work—

And none other than Jung Subin, not there to work but to support Seungwoo on his new song.

Chan is a little intimidated by the kid.

It might seem silly considering the kid is just that: a kid. The problem here is that Chan's heard _so much_ about Subin thanks to Seungwoo and Sejun and Hanse—who, turns out, is also into actors—that Chan just can't think of Jung Subin as just another trainee. Subin feels like someone who's on a completely different level than anyone else Chan's ever met, and Chan was a trainee for a long time: he's met plenty of famous trainers and idols from his company.

But Jung Subin is not just any other trainee. He's also an actor—an incredibly talented and famous actor at that. So even though the kid is wearing baggy clothes and has a head full of messy hair that makes him look more like a little wolf than anything else, Chan's still somewhat intimidated.

It's kind of weird, because when Seungwoo introduces them, he refers to Chan as _Heo Chan_ again. It shouldn't come as a surprise since it seems that Seungwoo's under the impression that Chan is someone special, but what really strikes Chan as odd is the way Subin's eyes widen all at once, the kid looking at him as if saying, So _you_ are Heo Chan? So Chan is trying to think of himself as someone whose name means something; someone who belongs at that studio and isn't just a nobody who just happens to be Seungwoo's backup dancer. It's hard, though. Chan feels like even if he were a big shot name, he'd still feel a little nervous around Jung Subin, so his mentality isn't that great.

After Seungwoo leaves the two of them to continue shooting some solo scenes, Chan is left alone with Subin at a corner of the studio. The two of them sit on some empty chairs they stole from somewhere and talk about this and that, both of them clearly too awkward to talk easily.

"Um," Subin suddenly says, "can I call you hyung?"

"Oh? Oh— Yeah, yeah, go ahead. You can talk to me comfortably."

Chan smiles at the kid, attempting to look friendly enough. He'd be heartbroken if Subin picked up on his nervousness and interpreted it as coldness or something like that. It has less to do with Subin being a famous actor and more with Subin being a dear friend of Sejun and Seungwoo's, someone who Chan would like to befriend as well, seeing as those two are back in his life now.

"Right. I'll try— I mean, I will." Subin lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm usually more outgoing, I just heard so much about you that I feel a little awkward finally getting to meet _you_."

"Huh?" Chan's taken off guard by the comment. There it is again. _You_ , _Heo Chan_. He knows it's probably because either Sejun or Seungwoo's talked about him to Subin—and what a terrifying thought that is; just what do those two say about him to people who don't know him?—but he still asks, "You know who I am?"

Subin looks at him as if not understanding the question. "Yeah? You're _Heo Chan_."

God.

Chan will never get used to people saying his name as if it means something.

"...Has Seungwoo talked about me?"

"Has he talked about you?" Subin can't seem to help it when he scoffs at Chan, clearly amused. He seems to realize what he did a second too late, but Chan finds it cute how Subin quickly apologizes. "Sorry, it's just— The first thing I heard when I joined the company was how I would be filling in the place of a trainee who recently left. I've been hearing about you for such a long time, but the one who talks the most about you is definitely Seungwoo-hyung. Like, by far."

It comes as a surprise. The fact that Seungwoo's been talking about Chan doesn't surprise him, not really—the fact that he's been talking about him _that much_ , on the other hand, is both embarrassing and... well, it gives Chan a little hope.

Subin keeps a smile on his face as he recalls all the times that Seungwoo somehow stirred the conversation from literally anything into Heo Chan territory; how Subin came to feel like he knew more about Chan than other trainees he was friends with. Chan tries to follow Subin's words but quickly gets lost in thought, remembering his conversation with Hanse a mere week ago.

_If it's born out of genuine feelings or if it isn't something closer to obsession._

Obsession.

"Anyway," Subin suddenly says, snapping Chan out of his thoughts, "I'm so excited to see you two dance. The thing that Seungwoo-hyung talks about the most is how good a dancer you are."

"Ah." Chan lets out a chuckle, feeling awkward again. "I'm not that good."

"Don't lie, hyung. Even Olivia said the same thing."

Chan shakes his head, a little embarrassed by the praise. Subin presses a little more until Chan has to attempt to change the subject, but his mind is still thinking about kissing Seungwoo, and with the info Subin shared with him earlier, Chan can only think of one thing to ask.

"So," he starts, a finger scratching his neck, almost moving his hand to rub at his nape like Seungwoo does when he's nervous, "you said Seungwoo talks a lot about me."

"Yeah, he really does."

"Does he talk about, you know... what he thinks about me?"

He barely gets the words out, feeling so fucking embarrassed to be fishing for information this way. It only makes him feel more self-conscious when Subin doesn't immediately catch onto what Chan's implying here.

"What he thinks about you?" Subin asks, his eyes really not making it obvious if he knows what Chan's talking about or not. "Well, he... he's said some things, I guess."

"Things? What things?"

"Why do you want to know so bad?"

Subin's question takes him off guard so badly that Chan feels like he's been slapped. Subin's eyes are sharper than expected. The look on his face is so unique that Chan can only compare it to that of an overprotective little brother who pulls you to the side to question what your intentions towards his older sibling are—is Chan really that obvious?

"J-just because."

Chan shrugs his shoulders, trying to come across as nonchalant as possible. He feels nervous under Subin's gaze, as if he's getting tested on whether or not he's a suitable partner for Seungwoo, nevermind the fact that they've already dated before. Actually, does Subin know that? The possibility that Seungwoo has kept his romantic past hidden from Subin only serves to make Chan even more nervous. If Subin only knows what Seungwoo's told him about Chan, then him rejecting Chan could mean that all of Chan's fears would be true and he and Seungwoo really aren't a good match.

Before Subin can say anything, someone is there to tell Chan that they'll shoot the dancing scenes next and to get ready.

Subin's demeanor changes instantly. He stops looking like a little wolf examining its prey closely, debating over whether to pounce or let it get away, and more like the kid Chan's heard stories of. Not the Jung Subin, rising actor with a huge local and international fanbase, but Seungwoo and Sejun's friend. Just another trainee. Chan can deal with just another trainee.

When Subin cutely calls out after him, "Good luck, hyung!" Chan smiles warmly. When Subin gives him a thumbs up and a meaningful look, Chan assumes it has to do with the shooting and gives a thumbs up back.

When Subin is out of vision and Chan realizes he's about to dance in front of so much fancy equipment for something that will be seen by thousands of people, he reminds himself to breathe.

There's that familiar anxiety, something Chan remembers from when he'd be getting ready to dance in front of his teachers; in front of the CEO; in front of the public at closed showcases. His body's way of making sure he's in top notch, making him go over every single detail in his head, making sure he doesn't commit a single mistake when it matters—but there's something else, too. A buzzing under his skin. Chan looks around the dance set, taking in all the little details, the gold and the silver and the weeping statue that will serve as a backdrop for his duet with Seungwoo.

He thinks about his talk with Hanse once more.

_It's desperate._

Desperation.

Chan looks around the set and feels so many emotions, it's like his chest might just burst out if he doesn't keep them in check. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"You ready?"

Opening his eyes, Chan comes face to face with a breathtakingly beautiful Seungwoo. The red makeup, the tear-like glitter under Seungwoo's eyes, Seungwoo's clothes and Seungwoo's smile—Chan feels _so much_.

The whirlwind of emotions inside Chan is too much—there's _too much_ inside him. There's anxiousness; there's exhilaration; there's adoration; there's that tension that pulls so hard and always brings him back to Seungwoo, always, no matter what. Like a string pulled so tight that it's about to break, Chan has to force himself to relax a little, fearing that otherwise he won't be able to get through the shooting without breaking down. Instead of trying to suppress the chaos going on inside him, he decides to just focus on just two of those emotions.

"Let's do this," he says, and then grabs Seungwoo's hand as they wait for the director's guidelines.

Today's Chan is going to stay in the present. He's going to ignore everything and dance with nothing but his aching heart, letting the obsession and the desperation guide his every move, knowing that for once—and maybe for just this once—he'll be completely in sync with Seungwoo.

**FIFTEEN.**

They have to dance a few times per set, and with four different dance sets, Chan is left exhausted by the last one.

He tries his best to recall the last few hours of shooting, but panting and apologizing to the people patting his skin dry, Chan feels like he might have blacked out for the whole of it. It's a completely different feeling to dance for this kind of thing than it is to dance on stage or for a small public of your college friends. He's tired and in pain from having to dance to his best every single time. He's soaked with sweat and yet his mouth feels as dry as a desert. He keeps monitoring the takes and feels dissatisfied with himself in each one, thinking that he could be doing so much better. The director tries to reassure him that it's just his lack of experience working with cameras, but Chan still feels bad.

They have him changing his outfit a couple of times more, and this time the change is more radical than simply putting him in another black getup with different accessories. Chan's dressed in black and gold; his lips are glossy and his eyelids have gold glitter on them; his bleached hair is sprayed black and then curled more than it naturally is. The image for this set is completely different from the rest—they even have him take a few glamor shots before getting to the dancing.

Seungwoo's gaze on him is heavy as Chan does his best for what's essentially his first time modeling. Trying to follow directions without feeling too awkward, he stares intently into the camera and parts his lips; he turns his head at an angle and brings his hand to his face, lips barely brushing his wrist.

The director praises him and Chan sighs deeply, turning to some staff member to talk about how nervous this is making him.

Seungwoo's eyes stay on him the whole time.

Maybe it's Chan who's too pointedly aware of Seungwoo, but the guy really seems to be ignoring everything around him to just focus on Chan. He doesn't talk to the camera following him around for the BTS and he's barely replying to Subin, who's now moved from the chair at the corner to watch the filming as close as possible without getting in the way.

It's making Chan nervous. It's making him hot. The temperature rises every time Chan sneaks a glance at Seungwoo and finds his darkened eyes set on Chan's lips—on the fake lip ring that hugs his bottom lip right at the middle.

"Alright, that's good!" the director suddenly announces. "Let's move to the performance."

Chan feels like he's burning by the time he and Seungwoo take the center.

While Seungwoo would previously smile at him and say some words right before dancing—things like, 'This is hard, huh?' and 'You're doing great!'—this time he stays oddly quiet. Chan can't help but stare at Seungwoo's eyes as they face each other and wait for the music to play, noticing his heavy eyelids, pupils blown out—

"Hyung?" Chan asks. "You okay?"

Seungwoo licks his lips before answering, voice a little cut off, "We're nearly finished; let's do our best."

Chan can't do much more than nod, trying to focus on the filming rather than on Seungwoo's sudden strangeness. It's really hard, though; Seungwoo is right in front of him, as close as they're supposed to be in their starter positions, and that's _close_. Chan can see every tiny detail in Seungwoo's makeup, can count the faint glitter under his eyes, can see exactly where his eyeliner starts and where it ends, can even count the ridges on Seungwoo's irises if he focuses enough—and Seungwoo stares right back at him.

The first notes of _Movement_ soon start playing and Chan slides his hand up Seungwoo's chest, ready to dance.

His body moves on its own, muscle memory having Chan dance as naturally as one breathes. He thinks once again about how this is what he was born to do. He thinks about how right it feels to pop his body to the beat; to glide across the floor; to get on his knees and then back up; and to have his hands all over Seungwoo's body, playing off him constantly. Seungwoo's chest is flush against Chan's back and Chan turns his head to see Seungwoo's lips moving as Seungwoo lip syncs. There's a hand on Chan's waist burning his skin right through his clothes, another one leaving a tingling sensation as it slides up his arm, and then Chan turns around and they're close, close, so fucking close close _close_.

They could kiss so easily right now.

Chan's breath is taken away when he hangs for half a second too long. The mistake is barely noticeable, but it weighs down on him heavily and he forces himself to finish the song without getting tempted by Seungwoo's lips. It's incredibly hard and Chan feels like he dances worse than ever, but the two of them still get praised when they're done and getting freshened up.

"Boys, you really got the feeling for this one, don't you?" The director smiles at them, Subin giving them an energetic thumbs up from where he's standing behind the director. "Seriously, love the emotion. Let's try that again— Oh, wait a second—"

The director turns towards Subin, who is whispering something to them like a demon sitting on your shoulder, whispering evil right to your ear. Chan watches as the director nods along to whatever it is Subin's scheming, and even though Chan's known the kid for less than a full day, he still gets a bad feeling from the way Subin looks so excited when the director seemingly agrees with him.

Chan can't help but swallow nervously when the director turns towards them again.

"Boys, Subin here just gave me an idea. I want you two to hear me out and tell me if you feel comfortable with it, alright?"

Seungwoo also looks mildly worried, eyes shifting towards Subin like he doesn't trust whatever the kid's doing. It looks like he might shoot it down right then, but he just asks, "What's the idea?"

As the director visibly hesitates before revealing Subin's mysterious suggestion, Chan keeps his eyes on the kid, still standing behind the director and still looking like he's plotting something. The bad feeling that settles at the pit of Chan's stomach only grows when Subin catches his eyes and _winks_. Not for a second does Chan imagine that maybe he did pass Subin's little test earlier.

**SIXTEEN.**

Chan touches the lace with his fingers, tracing along the seams, feeling the texture under his fingertips. He imagines the black lace covering his eyes and wonders if he'll still be able to see with it, having an inkling that the only reason he's not dancing with the lace on is because it's not that kind of see-through garment. Actually, he's a hundred percent sure that Subin's original idea was to have them dance together with their eyes covered, but because this is the only lace they have readily available, they now have to do... _this_. Chan feels his ears burn when he thinks of how quickly he said yes to this.

"God," Chan mutters to himself as he looks at the blindfold, "Hanse was right; this _is_ horny."

"Who's Hanse?"

Seungwoo pops his head in Chan's field of vision and nearly makes him jump right out of his skin. Seungwoo merely laughs at his startled expression, and it's weird to see Seungwoo back to normal after that interaction right before they danced. Chan appreciates it, though; it helps him feel a little less insane as they wait to shoot Subin's idea.

"Hanse's a friend," Chan says. He could mention how Hanse is also Seungwoo's fan, but Seungwoo asks him if Hanse's one of his college buddies before Chan can even open his mouth. "Oh, no. We did meet through them, though."

Seungwoo hums. "You should introduce them to me sometime."

It's a conversation topic and Chan takes the bait, the two of them talking lightly about going drinking with Sejun and Subin and Chan's friends. It's a good way to feign normality, for Chan to pretend as if nothing's wrong—as if _this_ isn't happening in just a few minutes time—and act none-the-wiser like he's become so accustomed to. It's different this time, though. Instead of completely ignoring the existence of anything that doesn't spark joy, Chan's pointedly aware of how he's trying so hard to ignore the imminent realization of Subin's idea. He keeps up the talk with Seungwoo until there's stylists bothering him to put the lace on so they can fix his hair, and even then he keeps replying to Seungwoo until they're both in place and waiting for the director to say they can start with—

"You're really okay with this?" Seungwoo asks him. Chan can't see Seungwoo's face, but he pictures it with a concerned furrow of his brow, big eyes looking at Chan with both apprehension and a hint of anticipation.

Chan opens his mouth to reply, but the director cuts him off by telling them they're good to go.

Feeling the hesitation practically radiating off Seungwoo, Chan tries to give him a small, encouraging smile.

"Just do it," he tells Seungwoo.

Tilting his head upwards and parting his lips just slightly, Chan can't help but sigh when a pressure settles around his jaw—Seungwoo's hands are cupping his face in a way that isn't gentle nor forceful, but determined, feeling just right. Chan barely remembers to angle his head just slightly to come out nicely on camera, truly just letting himself enjoy the moment. Subin's idea. Something he's been thinking about the whole day, and now, somehow, he's finally able to do it.

"Kiss me."

Seungwoo doesn't have to be told twice.

The grip on Chan's jaw gets just a little tighter, and in just a second he feels the soft press of lips against his. It's weird; the blindfold and the lip ring give the kiss a weird tint that Chan's never experienced before. It's not bad, though. He enjoys it as long as it lasts, and then he laments the loss when they pull apart way too soon for Chan's taste.

He waits with bated breath, straining his ears for the director's voice, needing to know if that was good, if the shot was good enough to use or if they need to kiss again. God, he hopes _so fucking bad_ that they need to kiss again.

"Well," the director says, "I think that was good—"

The hands on Chan's jaw tighten again, this time almost painfully, and the yelp that escapes from his mouth is swallowed by Seungwoo as he's kissed again.

It comes so suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, that Chan opens his eyes in surprise only to be reminded that he's blindfolded. It's not the only thing that he's forgotten about: Seungwoo kisses him with such passion, such _desperation_ , that Chan forgets all about the shoot. He forgets that he's supposed to tilt his head just slightly, to make sure his hands stay by his side, to just press their lips together as that's enough. There's no need for Chan to burrow his hands in Seungwoo's hair and pull _hard_ , hard enough to get a whine out of Seungwoo; there's no need for Chan to press himself against Seungwoo's body, getting on the tips of his toes just to get even closer still, close close _close_ even closer than they've been this whole time; there's no need for him to bite Seungwoo's lip and stick his tongue down Seungwoo's throat in front of dozens of cameras and even more staff members and the director and fucking Jung Subin.

There's really no need for Chan to do all that.

This isn't about reason, though. Nothing that Chan does when it comes to Han Seungwoo follows any kind of reason or logic. That day at the mall—when Chan was at the cusp of moving on, of finally letting go of the phantom grip he's had on Seungwoo for three whole damn years—he didn't think of the hundreds of reasons that he would've found if he had only bothered to think about why following Seungwoo was a bad idea. The consequences didn't even cross his mind. He becomes that kind of person when he's with Seungwoo: someone utterly hedonistic, maybe even masochist. Someone who knows it's bad for him, and yet he just can't give it up; he loves the pain it causes him to be with Seungwoo and he loves even more when the two of them just _give in_ to that pain and turn it into _this_.

So here he is: with lace covering his eyes and a pliant Seungwoo pressed against him, a Seungwoo who'd let him do anything right now, who'd let Chan tear him apart and put him back together in front of everyone if Chan so desired, and Chan fucking _loves it_. That burn he's been craving so desperately is back, like lava flowing through his veins, warming him up from the inside to such a degree that any more and he'd burst into flames strong enough to rival the sun.

It's killing him. Han Seungwoo is killing him and Chan can't—he doesn't _want_ to stop.

Wanting to keep doing this forever, the two of them very reluctantly break apart only when they hear the director's voice again.

"Sure, we can take another— You two just keep kissing. We're, uh, we're filming this, right?"

"I think they're done," Subin points out.

The first thing Chan does is untie the blindfold, using the time to catch his breath and steel himself before facing Seungwoo and whatever state the guy's been left in. Chan doesn't know what to expect so he stalls for a few seconds, wiping the drool from his lips, fixing the lip ring, even fixing his hair and clothes before finally sneaking a glance at Seungwoo, who looks...

He looks fine.

The only evidence of their making out is Seungwoo's tousled hair and slightly out of place clothes, but even that could be explained by them dancing not too long ago. Really, the only _real_ evidence that Chan can find is the faint blush spreading over Seungwoo's cheeks.

He really looks... just fine.

And he won't even look at Chan.

Chan forces himself to pay attention to what the director's saying, something about them doing great, that they should take a break before they shoot the remaining scenes—it all goes through one ear and out the other, but Chan nods all the same and then follows Subin back to the corner chairs. He leaves Seungwoo there and doesn't look back, not wanting to know if Seungwoo is watching him walk away or not.

Feeling the desperation and obsession and everything that ties him with Seungwoo sucked out of his body, Chan gets through what's left of the filming feeling pretty numb.

It's a little ridiculous, considering he's finally done the one thing he's wanted the most this whole time, but it settles uncomfortably in his stomach as if Chan's eaten something just days away from its expiration date—it's still fine, sure, but he can't help but wonder if maybe he'll get sick all the same.

Even though Chan and Seungwoo dance together a couple of times more and the choreography is still the same, Chan can't help but feel like this is the most distant they've ever been from each other. When Seungwoo touches his waist, when he slides his hands up Chan's arms, when Chan twirls and comes face to face with Seungwoo—it's like they're not even in the same room. It's pretty amazing, really, how Seungwoo manages to not once look at Chan even though they have to dance like this and kiss like this and live like this. But it's fine. Chan's fine.

If Seungwoo's fine, then Chan's fine, too.

He's fine.

He's used to being hurt by Seungwoo and to hurting right back—it's their thing.

**SEVENTEEN.**

So Chan might have done something a little petty.

The day's finally here: he and Seungwoo—albeit mostly through Subin—have gotten all their friends to free up their schedules and meet up somewhere and get to know each other. Less than a week after Seungwoo and Chan's work-related makeout, they now sit one in front of the other inside a private room at a fancy restaurant that Subin's paying for, and it's as awkward and tense as one would expect. Chan's fine, though; he has Hanse next to him, a constant reminder that he has something up his sleeve.

Although things seem fine so far. It's just Seungwoo and Subin on one side of the table, Chan sitting with Hanse and Seungsik on the other, the five of them waiting for the rest to get there before getting truly started with the night. It's definitely weird for the three of them, the original trio, Chan, Seungwoo and Seungsik to be together again, but Chan avoids the feeling by fully focusing on whatever Hanse and Subin are off to the side talking about, the two of them getting along surprisingly well.

"When are the others getting here?" Hanse asks out of nowhere, addressing the whole table.

"Sejun is running late because of a schedule," Chan says.

Seungsik checks his phone, looking slightly disappointed. "The girls also have a thing that's keeping them busy."

"And Byungchan?"

"No idea; he's not checking his texts."

Subin cocks his head to the side, hand sneaking to the beer bottle in the middle of the table to pour himself a drink. "This Byungchan guy," he starts saying, pausing briefly to pout when Seungwoo catches his hand and puts the beer back where it was, "is he handsome?"

" _Subin_."

"Ah, c'mon, hyung," Subin frowns at Seungwoo, voice a little whiny. He points his chin at Chan and his friends before saying, "We're among friends."

"Yeah, but—"

Seungwoo's eyes dart across the table before settling on Chan. It's only for a second, maybe even less, short enough that Chan can't really decipher the emotion that he sees in them, but it doesn't settle right with him. Seungwoo bites his tongue and leaves it at that.

Not letting the silence turn uncomfortable, Hanse grins at Subin and takes out his phone. "Is Byungchan _handsome_? Why, wanna see?"

All it takes is a little shake of Hanse's hand for Subin to nod enthusiastically, and soon they all find themselves looking at Hanse's camera roll; talking about Byungchan and Maya and Haemi and everyone else; talking about the club and college and the tattoo parlor; talking and laughing and having a great time. Chan only sneaks a glance at Seungwoo one or two or six times, wondering what went through Seungwoo's head just minutes earlier.

They're all teasing Seungsik—all thanks to Hanse showing them a candid of Seungsik and Haemi laughing together—when a knock on the door interrupts them. No one misses how Seungsik's eyes light up like a puppy whose owner finally came home, but then Sejun's unmistakably blue hair comes into vision.

"Hey, gang! Look who I ran into at the entrance."

Seungsik's eyes light up again in a way that is, in Chan's honest opinion, kinda adorable—only to die as soon as Maya pops up from behind Sejun.

Maya scoffs, "Damn, you didn't have to look so happy to see me."

It's a mess of introductions and Seungsik trying to save face after that, Maya and Sejun taking the two empty seats next to Subin and Seungwoo, all seven of them deciding that they're enough that they can start ordering food and drinking to their hearts' content. The conversation jumps from Sejun's mystery schedule to Haemi, who Seungwoo can't believe isn't Seungsik's girlfriend—'Yet!' Maya adds—only to finally settle, somehow, on Chan.

It happens when Seungsik gets tired of the teasing and throws Chan under the bus simply to get out of it. He says, "You're all telling me to get together with Haemi, but what about Chan?"

Chan physically feels his blood freeze.

"W-what about me?"

It's in the way Seungsik takes a second too long to reply. It's how Seungsik keeps his eyes dead set on Chan, never once looking at Seungwoo, but the downturn of his lips, the slight burrow of his brown—they give it away in such a way that Chan knows exactly whom he's talking about. It makes sense that Seungsik knows—he was there, he saw them get together years ago, he knows how it is between them—but he's been so removed from anything Seungwoo related for the past few months, how can he...? Why is he doing this?

"I mean," Seungsik shrugs his shoulders, suddenly nonchalant, "isn't this what we've been trying to do for months? To get Chan to hook up with someone?"

"What?"

Chan barely manages to tear off his gaze from Seungsik, Seungwoo's soft voice feeling kind of like a punch to the gut. It's not just him—Subin looks genuinely confused, the frown on his face not nearly as deep as the one that Sejun sucks at hiding.

"Right!" Maya exclaims suddenly. She crosses her elbows over the table and looks at Chan in the eye, finger pointing back and forth between him and Hanse, and Chan's heart fucking _drops_. "When are you two making it official? You've been teasing us for months already—c'mon, me and Byungchan have money riding on this."

" _What?_ "

Chan closes his eyes and he closes them hard. He can't bear to look at Seungwoo, whose voice is so small, who sounds so _hurt_ — Chan has to remind himself of the filming day, when _he_ had been hopeful and Seungwoo crushed it all with nothing but silence and an averted gaze, just to prevent the guilt from eating him up inside. He knows everyone's looking at him; everyone's expecting him to answer to that, somehow, but Chan won't look. Like a child who believes things simply stop existing when you stop looking at them, he desperately wishes to be somewhere else, away from all this, burning his tongue on a cigarette to avoid feeling and thinking and all that stuff that he's so bad at.

And, of course, among everything, he also forgot about the little plan he schemed in a moment of pure petiness.

Chan curses under his tongue when Hanse takes the chance to grab his hand over the table.

"Actually," Hanse says, "about that—"

**EIGHTEEN.**

This would be an immediate scandal if it were to get out of the room: Lim Sejun, beloved idol, attempting to climb over a table to beat the shit out of one of his friends.

It's Maya the one physically holding him back, barely catching him by the arm before Seungsik and Seungwoo move to help her. Sejun's cursing at Chan the entire time, pushing dishes out of the way, knocking down bottles, really making it clear that he wants his fists connected to Chan's teeth. It probably doesn't help that it's Hanse the one who gets Chan as far away from Sejun as possible.

"Calm the fuck down!" Seungsik yells, finally managing to push Sejun back enough that Sejun stays put.

"Sejun!" Seungwoo puts his hand against Sejun's chest, making himself broader to stand in the way between Sejun and Chan. Maya doesn't take her chances and keeps holding onto Sejun's arm, Chan fearing that her long nails might break from how tight her grip on his shirt is—alternatively, he fears that Sejun might be bleeding now. "What's gotten into you?"

"You're dating Hanse?" Sejun asks, voice so loud that it makes Chan jump. "You were screwing someone else while flirting with Seungwoo this whole time?!"

"Sejun, stop!"

"Hyung, get out of the way! I'm gonna beat the shit out of this guy!"

There's something about Sejun referring to Chan as 'this guy' that hurts more than the threat of physical violence. This is Sejun, the same person Chan and Seungwoo used to bother at ass o'clock so that he'd let them crash in his room after too-long dancing sessions; the same Sejun that followed Chan on instagram and constantly spam replies to his stories; the same Sejun that Chan's supposed to watch a movie with sometime next week. How do you go from that to _this_?

Seungsik and Maya are both yelling, their voices constantly trying to be louder than Sejun's, as if purposely drowning him out. Seungwoo does nothing but keep a hand on Sejun's chest to hold him back. Subin stays quiet.

Hanse is still holding onto Chan by the wrist as far away from Sejun as possible. "Maybe that wasn't such a good idea," he mutters at some point, and yeah—Chan agrees.

Maybe, in hindsight, implying that the two of them are dating was _not_ the thing to do.

Among all the rowdiness, Chan still hears Seungwoo's quiet, ' _What?_ ' as clear as day. He still sees the hurt in his eyes, still feels as if he could look through Seungwoo's chest and see a crack appear right on his heart. It dawns on him violently and it hurts more than the punch he received or the injury he had years ago: he fucked up so bad— God, Chan fucked up big time.

"Do you really have nothing to say for yourself?" Sejun spits at him. "So it's true, huh? You're a two-timing bitch? You weren't satisfied with your twink so you had to go and play with hyung's heart, too?"

Sejun's back hits the wall by the time he's done spitting out every curse word that a church boy shouldn't know. Seungwoo snaps out of sight after Seungsik pushes him aside to grab Sejun by the neck of his shirt, looking angrier than Chan's ever seen him before. "I'm not afraid to punch an idol," he warns through his teeth as he hits Sejun against the wall again. "Let's try and see how you get any work done with your face black and blue."

"That's enough."

Seungwoo's voice isn't small now. It's not quiet and gentle like how Chan's used to hearing it. Both Seungsik and Sejun stop after Seungwoo speaks, both barely holding their rage in, Sejun's eyes still moving from Seungsik to Chan and looking so full of anger— But Sejun stays put, so much that even Maya risks letting go of his arm.

Everyone stops.

Chan can see the way Seungwoo's jaw is clenched, how his hands are clenched into fists with white knuckles—and yet it doesn't seem like he's angry.

Hurt. He probably doesn't want his friends fighting each other, making it worse.

He's just hurt.

Chan went too far this time.

"So, um," Hanse starts, breaking through the silence in a way that feels too blunt, "how about we all calm down and talk about this? There's been a misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?" Subin finally speaks up. All eyes turn towards him, who's still sitting down at the table, eyes hardened and voice level in a way that is a little scary. From what Chan knows of Subin and Sejun, he would've expected things to go exactly the opposite, with Subin being the one to let his emotions take over and Sejun waiting for the initial reactions to be over before inserting himself in the conversation.

Sejun raises his voice again, "What's there to misunderstand? Hanse said you two are a thing—how are we misunderstanding that?"

"It wasn't—"

"You two kissed."

Chan has to swallow his words as Subin cuts through them with an icy tone that sends chills down his spine. It's such a simple statement, but the energy in the room shifts and so does Hanse, who looks back at Chan with wide eyes.

It's Maya who hesitantly follows that up with a question. "You mean Hanse and Chan? Or, perhaps..."

She trails off, but her eyes land on Seungwoo, who is looking at Chan with so much pain in his eyes that Chan feels it like arrows that have struck his chest, piercing flesh and organs to come out on the other side. There's actually so much he could say: he could finish his sentence, beg for the others to understand that what Hanse said wasn't true, that Chan was just a petty bitch and wanted to get back at Seungwoo for hurting him that day at the filming site; he could turn to Hanse and explain that it was a work-related kiss, which he knowingly kept from Hanse because Hanse would never have gone along with Chan's plan if he'd known that Chan and Seungwoo kissed.

But Chan can't find the words. He's simply stuck staring at Seungwoo, arrow after arrow piercing his heart, feeling like he deserves it for ever wanting to hurt the person he loves the most.

"You didn't tell me you kissed," Hanse says. "I would have never— What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Is that true?" Seungsik asks, the frown on his face directed at no one but Chan. A lot of the people in the room are looking at him the same way—everyone but Seungwoo, who's now averting his gaze, head hanging low so that his bangs cover his eyes. "I knew you and Seungwoo were all weird because of what happened years ago, but I really thought Hanse got through you... Don't tell me you cheated?"

"What— No, I didn't _cheat_. Hanse and I aren't dating."

"But didn't Hanse say—"

"That wasn't true," Hanse replies for Chan, and by the tone of his voice it's more than obvious that he's _done_ —with Chan, with his bullshit, with all of this. "I just said that because Chan said he wanted to make Seungwoo jealous or— Fuck if I know why. His explanation feels so bullshit now. I just thought it might help push them out of the awkward, tense flirting stage; I had no idea they kissed already."

"Yeah, wash your hands of this," Sejun mutters while glaring at Hanse.

Seungsik clicks his tongue loudly, but otherwise does nothing. Hanse doesn't fight Sejun's comment; he just keeps looking at Chan as if there's something deeply wrong with him, slowly backing away until Chan gets the impression that people stopped taking sides, everyone unanimously agreeing that he's the fucking worst.

And he gets it. He really does. He's not fighting that—he's not doing much, really, and that's his bad. But what can he do when Seungwoo is once again not looking at him?

Chan cries, "I'm sorry." He begs, "Hyung, I'm so sorry."

But there's no use.

Seungwoo won't look at him.

**NINETEEN.**

Seungwoo apologizes for not being able to stay. He does so while still keeping his eyes on the floor, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, addressing Seungsik when he mentions Byungchan and Haemi and how bad he feels that he won't be able to meet them. Subin stands up and Sejun grabs his stuff and the three of them get ready to leave, and it's only when Seungwoo is reaching for the door that Chan reacts.

"Wait, hyung, don't leave—"

Chan tries to reach out. He gets across the room as quickly as possible, hand stretched out about to grab Seungwoo's arm, so desperate for them to just _talk_ — To maybe fix the mess he's gotten them into—

A fist caught on his lip keeps him from ever reaching Seungwoo.

All hell breaks loose as soon as Chan goes down. There's too much happening all at once, Chan barely catching some of it: the way Seungwoo and Subin attempt to hold Sejun back; Maya's phone out at Seungsik's command. It's hard to really know what everyone's doing, but Seungsik's voice rings clear among the chaos as he asks Maya if she's recording everything.

"Physical assault," Seungsik states after Maya confirms that she's recording, her phone winding up right on Sejun's face to get a good close-up of him. "What would people say if they saw this video? 'Idol beats up college student'? Look, you busted his lip. Look."

"You fucking—"

"Get the fuck out or we'll leak this."

There's no question about what happens next. No one breathes easily until Sejun is out of the room, dragged by the arm by Subin, Seungwoo hesitantly following behind them. He only stops once to look over his shoulder at the bleeding Chan still on the floor, concern written all over his features, but the pain there is still so clear, so fresh—Chan doesn't blame him when Seungwoo leaves without saying anything.

But Chan still wants to say so much. He wants to _talk_.

"Stop," Seungsik tells him as soon as he opens his mouth. Balling up one of the napkins that didn't fall to the floor and crouching next to him, Seungsik presses it to Chan's lip. "Let him be for now."

Maya sighs loudly from where she's still holding out her phone, only putting it down once she's done explaining outloud what just happened for the sake of the video. Words like 'college student' and 'famous idol from X company' and 'fistfight' and 'no reason' all catch Chan's attention. She walks up to him as soon as she's done, big eyes attempting to get a good look of the hit on his lip. "Oppa, are you okay?"

He nods—he's gotten punched way worse by people scarier than Sejun—and hisses as soon as Seungsik presses the napkin just a little too hard.

"I can't believe that just happened... Are we really leaking the video?"

"Of course we are. I don't care if he's an idol; you can't just go around punching people just because they upset you." Seungsik turns to the other two with an evil glint in his eye. "Maya, you and Hanse are pretty big on Instagram, aren't you? Send the video to a news site anonymously and then share it once the article is up, make it reach more people."

Chan hits Seungsik's chest weakly. "Stop trying to bring down a man's career. Don't leak it."

Maya frowns at Chan. "Are you sure? He did just bust your lip."

"I deserved that."

The little sarcastic laugh that Chan gets belongs to none other than Hanse, standing around near the door with the stance of a bouncer, as if he fears that Sejun might just burst it down and come back to finish what he started. "Oh, you definitely deserved that," he smiles sarcastically at Chan. "No one's disputing that. But you did just get punched in the face by an idol, and like Seungsik says, that's kind of a big deal."

Chan groans, "I can't do that to Sejun."

He takes the napkin from Seungsik and continues pressing it to his lip until it stops bleeding.

"He might hate me now but we were pretty close as trainees; I more than anyone know how much his career means to him."

At Chan's insistence, Seungsik is forced to drop his evil plans, Hanse and Maya being much more understanding than him, although she does let Chan know that she'll be keeping the video just in case.

"That's fair," Chan shrugs, reaching out to grab one of the only alcohol bottles that weren't knocked down in the ruckus. It's amazing that no employees have shown up to check on them; surely they were loud enough that the whole restaurant heard them, but he's not about to complain when he could be drinking instead. Without any of his friends stopping him, Chan grabs the beer that Subin couldn't drink earlier and takes a swing, immediately wincing at the pain that flares up from his lip.

Hanse scoffs at him. "Are you an idiot?"

"He must be a masochist," Maya hums. "Actually, me and Byungchan have money running on that, too."

Chan can't help but let out a bitter laugh, taking a long swing of the beer regardless of the pain. "I might as well be." Another swing. "And with what I did to Seungwoo, you could even call me a sadist."

Attempting to take another swing, Chan fails when Seungsik takes the bottle from him. "I think I'd rather call you an idiot."

"That's also fair."

With no beer to chug and no cigarette to smoke and no song to dance to, Chan can do nothing but hang his head low and sigh into his hands. He keeps them there, pressed against his face, the pain from his lip really being nothing compared to the pain he feels whenever he remembers the look on Seungwoo's face just minutes ago.

Chan's really an idiot. A dumbass. He's so fucking stupid. How could he have done something like that? _It's their thing_ —how could he think something like that?

"I fucked up, guys."

His voice is muffled by his hands.

"I fucked up so bad."

He's tired of hurting—of being hurt and hurting others. He's tired of the emotional toll that things with Seungwoo have taken on him. He's tired of pretending things are fine, that anything wrong will somehow sort itself out, that a lost dream and three years thrown in the trash are things he can just live with. He's tired of the heavy feeling weighing down his chest that's gotten unbelievably heavier after today, guilt making him want to die _so fucking bad_ because the only thought he has left before the tears start to fall is that Seungwoo _finally_ looked at him.

**TWENTY.**

So the general consensus is that Chan's an asshole.

He agrees.

They spend a good hour at the trashed room before an employee musters up the courage to interrupt them, kindly telling them to fuck off already. That entire hour is spent talking about just how much of an idiot Chan is, and after they leave the restaurant—sneakily getting out of paying for any damages caused by Sejun—the conversation continues strong all the way to Chan's house. That's where Maya has to say goodbye, something about Byungchan getting into trouble and her having to bail him out, followed by Hanse volunteering to walk her all the way to the station.

"I should also go," Seungsik says after the other two disappear down the street. "Haemi's worrying me a little, actually."

"She still hasn't replied to your texts?"

Seungsik shakes his head. He mentions a quick message he got not too long after Maya and Sejun arrived, just a heads-up from Haemi that she wouldn't be able to join them in the end. "She said something suddenly came up and that's why she couldn't make it to the restaurant."

"Did she mention what came up?"

"That's the thing: she didn't. I'm worried something bad might have happened."

"Worse than Byungchan spending the night in jail for accidentally helping a couple of old people steal goodies from a store?"

It sounds ridiculous enough that Seungsik manages to crack a smile at it, but it's clear as day that he's genuinely worried. Chan, too—Haemi isn't the type to miss an event like today's, so it's definitely concerning that she did without really explaining why. That's why Chan doesn't hesitate before insisting that Seungsik goes see her, practically pushing Seungsik down the street so he can hail a cab.

He would really like it if Seungsik stayed, but Chan can't bring himself to even think of keeping Seungsik from checking on Haemi. After everything he's done—not just to Seungwoo, but using Hanse and pushing Seungsik aside—Chan would rather die than hurt anyone else out of selfishness. So what if he feels like crawling out of his skin just thinking of entering his home with no one by his side? One night of thinking—of _reflecting_ —will surely do him good. A full night to sit back and think about things; about himself and the things he loves and craves as well as the things he's abandoned and let rot.

Seungsik doesn't fight him, but he does hesitate before getting in the car.

"Hey, Channie..."

"Hm? What is it?"

Seungsik stalls. He licks his lips, taps his fingers against the open door, shifts his weight from one leg to another—Chan's familiar with all of it and so he waits until Seungsik is ready to say whatever it is that he's biting back.

And then Seungsik lets it out. Chan doesn't expect it to be an apology.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for today," Seungsik repeats. "Listen, I know we all agreed that you acted like an idiot with your little plan, but I was also out of line when I shifted the focus to you and Hanse. I shouldn't have done that in front of Seungwoo."

What Chan sees in Seungsik's eyes is the same kind of worry that Seungsik couldn't hide while explaining the out-of-character text from Haemi.

"Don't blame yourself too much," he tells Chan, speaking slowly and pointedly like you'd talk to a child to _really_ get something through their head. Chan can't even be offended by this—it _is_ , at this point, the only way to talk to him, it seems. "You're not the only one at fault, okay? Seungwoo's been kind of an idiot too."

Seungsik hesitates again.

Then he squeezes Chan's shoulder before adding, "That's why you two work."

Chan starts his night of reflection by wondering what the fuck Seungsik meant with that.

He doesn't actually go inside his home. After watching Seungsik enter the cab and disappear into the night, the first thing Chan does is walk to the nearest convenience store and buy himself a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a can of beer and a bag of gummies to snack on. He ends up sitting at the steps of his building, nodding his head to anyone coming in or out, thinking that he must look like shit since no one attempts to strike a conversation with him. And that's fine by him—he's able to sit undisturbed as he ponders over Seungsik's words for an embarrassingly long amount of time.

That's why you two work.

But do they? Do they really work? Chan takes another drag of his cig, immediately letting the smoke out as he scoffs to himself. No, they don't. It's pretty fucking clear that they don't—not back then and not now. Hanse only said they did because he hadn't met Seungwoo yet; Seungsik only said this because—

Because...

Could they really work?

"God, stop thinking about that," Chan groans, muttering to himself as he rubs his eyes with the one hand that isn't holding the cigarette. Somehow, that one smells of smoke too.

There's no way they could work. Not now. Not after Chan hurt Seungwoo like that. Maybe not ever, if Seungwoo can't find it in himself to forgive Chan, and he'd be totally in his right to decide that he's had enough of him. _Chan_ 's had enough of himself. Things are so messy and all he's done is make it worse, acting selfishly and getting involved in Seungwoo's life again when it seemed like Seungwoo was doing fine without him. It might have made them dance really nicely, yeah, but acting desperate, being obsessed with an ex-boyfriend—fuck, that's not healthy at all.

Chan gets through his pack too quickly. He drinks his beer as if he's trying to drown in it. He does take his time with the gummies, but only because he needs something to keep his body busy, fighting off the itch in his fingers that's just begging for him to pick up his phone and call Seungwoo.

Once the gummies are gone, though, all Chan has left is the lighter. It fits comfortably in his hand and the sound of the gas catching fire is a familiar one, the sight reminding Chan of that day at the overpass.

Seungwoo's words—how he talked about his song, how he described Chan.

Seungwoo's song—the memory of Chan dancing to _Chasing Fire_ in front of his friends.

 _Chasing Fire_ —

Chan stares at the fire, at the flickering flame, feels the burn on his thumb and the heat that barely warms him up in a night that suddenly feels so cold. He pictures Seungwoo looking at him the same way Chan looks at the lighter and coming up with—what was it— _Burning Sweat/Past Desires_?

Resisting the urge to burn his palm, Chan thinks of something else to do, anything that will stop him from picking up his phone.

God, he wants to dance.

**TWENTY-ONE.**

Chan passes through the front doors, through the lobby and the cafe, listening to his footsteps resonate in the empty building. He makes his way to the elevator and gets inside, pushing the button to the 4th floor, and he looks at his reflection—at his silver hair, at the roots that he needs to touch up; at his eyes, the bags under them heavy and obvious without makeup; at his bottom lip, usually so nice yet looking so ugly with the wound where his teeth cut into it. He keeps his eyes on the cut until the doors open and Chan gets to step into the hallway, muscle memory leading him to the only studio that seems to exist here.

The 4th floor dance room. Where he can trace things back to the very moment a little crush turned to like (it was probably that night, during his 2nd year of high school, when Seungwoo carried him to Sejun's room after Chan finally collapsed at the crack of dawn unable to move his legs) and where it started to morph into what it is today (what was it again— _obsession_ , _desperation_ , either, or?). Where it'll die, too, if Chan's lucky.

God, he's so dramatic. He's just here to dance.

Plus, he doesn't... He doesn't want it to _die_. The love he feels for Seungwoo is, at its very core, something good. The one who's been unable to act upon it in a way that hasn't caused pain is Chan, and so he'd rather just... dim the light a little. Make that love a little more muted. A desaturated pink instead of the bleeding red that seeps through the holes left on his heart, his chest, staining everything Chan touches. Anything to make it more bearable, like how it was before he ran into Seungwoo that day at the mall.

Dancing might help, he reasons. Dancing in front of Seungwoo is what got him into this mess, so maybe dancing alone will help appease the feeling, at least for now. A temporary measure until Chan and Seungwoo get to talk once they're both ready. In the most simple, innocent way, Chan would describe it as putting a bandaid over his heart, hoping to God it holds.

It makes no sense. He knows. His logic is all wrong here, but he still just wants to dance.

Ironically, as if his life is just some big, cosmic joke for the forces of the universe to laugh at, he doesn't even get to do that.

Chan spends a good half hour cross legged in front of the audio system, phone hooked up and music player open, browsing his playlists and skipping song after song because nothing feels right. It's not the type of night in which he can just play the first song that comes on shuffle, but nothing's clicking. Nothing makes him want to do more than lazily bob his head to the rhythm. Chan's usually able to get right into it, feeling the beat deep in his bones and moving to it as naturally as one breathes when you're not conscious of your lungs, so this is disconcerting. It's frustrating. Why did he come all the way here if he can't even do the one thing he could always turn to? It's not even that his body can't dance—he's not injured, it's not like _that_ time—but that it _won't_.

"What the fuck."

This sucks.

"Why am I crying?"

This fucking sucks.

His head is just too messed up. He thought he'd be able to dance to avoid thinking, but it's impossible—everything, _everything_ , no matter how hard he tries to ignore it all, everything leads back to what happened earlier.

The hurt in Seungwoo's eyes.

The bridge that Chan burned down.

Because this is it, isn't it? There's no point in going over what if's, indulging in hypothetical scenarios in which they work, or maybe they don't work, or maybe they never worked but they just don't care. The more Chan thinks about it, the more he's convinced that there's no going back. Even if he gets to explain his reasoning, even if they talk it out and realize they're just stupid, this isn't the end of the world, this is something they can work through—and then what? How long until something like this happens again? Chan's an idiot, and Seungwoo isn't that great at communicating, either. It's bound to happen again. How long until the two of them are too hurt to give it another try? In that case, isn't the better option, the merciful ending, to just cut off contact again, pretend they never ran into each other, they never danced together, they never kissed again?

So why is he crying? Why is he sobbing into his hands, hiccups breaking through the distant background music Chan's phone left? If this is the better option for the two of them, why does Chan hurt so much when he thinks of letting Seungwoo go again—

Why did he ever let him go in the first place?

Why—

"Channie?"

Seungwoo's voice, as small as it is, cuts through the crying and the music so violently that Chan nearly chokes on the air he's trying so desperately to get into his lungs.

He moves mechanically, brain barely working right now, still thinking about questions that he can't answer when it should be in crisis mode because _why the hell is Seungwoo here now_. Chan hunches his shoulders, head hanging low to prevent Seungwoo from seeing his tears; he uses his hands to wipe them from his cheeks, frustration steadily building up after they refuse to stop falling. He doesn't even attempt to reply. He's scared to even look up, both because Seungwoo will see him like this and because he'll see Seungwoo, and Chan's not sure if he can look Seungwoo in the eye now.

It's kind of impossible to avoid, though. Seungwoo is a kind soul. The song doesn't even end before he's looking around the room to find a clean towel and some bottled water which he hands to Chan, not saying anything but a quiet, "Here."

It takes some insisting for Chan to lift his head up. Some nudging; a few kind words here, something about being dehydrated and replenishing fluids there— Seungwoo is patient, and when Chan finally looks up, he sees nothing but concern in Seungwoo's eyes. They're not hurting, not like how he feared they might still be. Like Seungsik when talking about Haemi, it's the kind of concern reserved for someone you deeply love, someone you can't stand to see hurt, a person able to break your heart in pieces with just a tear running down their cheek.

There's no intense moment here. It doesn't hit him like a bucket of cold water to the head, doesn't dawn on him suddenly and unrestrained. It's just like, Oh.

Oh.

Seungwoo doesn't hate him—there's no way he could look at Chan like that if he did.

Seungwoo doesn't hate him.

Seungwoo doesn't—

**TWENTY-TWO.**

"Wh-why are you—"

Unable to get the words out, Chan presses the towel to his face and hopes he suffocates on it. There's a hand on his upper back gently rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, sometimes moving to caress the back of his neck the way Chan likes—it's ridiculous that Seungwoo still remembers that.

Seungwoo replies, "I couldn't sleep." Chan tries to say something along the lines of, 'So you came here to dance?' but he refuses to show his face, so it's a wonder how Seungwoo understands his muffled words. "No," Seungwoo says with a small laugh. "I was on my way to my studio when a trainee told me they saw you here."

"Ah." Chan nods, no energy to say anything else. There's a headache starting to form in the middle of his forehead that he wishes wouldn't come; although, on the bright side, it's telling that he's not crying anymore. Still, he keeps the towel against his face, pressing it harder against his eyes until he starts seeing indescribable colors, keeping it there for so long that Seungwoo eventually has to wrap his hands around Chan's fingers and pull it away.

The brightness from the lights, the spots in Chan's vision—it takes him a while to be able to truly see, but as soon as he's able to lift his head and look around, Seungwoo is laughing at him.

"Your eyes," Seungwoo points out, not a hint of an apology in his voice, and then lets out another chuckle, soft in volume against the music. "It's been a long time since I saw your eyes look like— Man, what was it again? You know, that joke that Sejun had—"

"M-macaroon?"

Seungwoo giggles, "Yeah!"

Chan frowns, the action not helping his headache. He must look really funny because Seungwoo keeps teasing him, bringing back the macaroon joke Sejun started some years ago after a particularly heartfelt—and embarrassing—birthday party. Chan only realizes Seungwoo is doing it to distract him from his tears when, in the middle of some weird anecdote that Chan can't quite place, Seungwoo leans in and brushes Chan's bangs out of the way, combing his hair with his fingers like it's no big deal. Then his hand goes back to Chan's back, rubbing comforting circles like it's been doing this whole time.

It does help a little. Chan keeps sniffling and feeling like he might break down crying again any second now, but as he jokingly tells Seungwoo to shut up, he does feel a little more at ease. He manages to relax against Seungwoo's touch, only now realizing how tense he's been, and Seungwoo rewards him with a few pats to the head.

"Better?" Seungwoo asks, to which Chan nods with a hum.

"Hyung, you—" Chan's voice comes out all raspy so he takes a few seconds to clear his throat, ignoring the look Seungwoo gives him. He tries again, "You came to check on me?"

"Well... I wasn't planning to at first. Good thing that I did, though, right?"

The way Seungwoo smiles, small yet amiable, is enough to cause Chan's chest to hurt. The way Seungwoo once again brushes Chan's hair out of the way and keeps his hand there as if not wanting to pull apart just yet, it makes Chan's fingers tingle with the need to reach out and touch him the same way Seungwoo is doing now. To run his fingers through Seungwoo's hair, to caress the skin under Seungwoo's eyes, to slide his hands under Seungwoo's shirt—and he's now leaving this realm and entering one of fantasy, plagued with all the things Chan's dreamed of doing ever since he danced with Seungwoo for the first time in three years—and press them against firm skin, to lean in and press his lips to Seungwoo's jaw in the same fashion, to let Seungwoo hold him as Chan cries again.

Digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palms, Chan pushes down the need to touch—and, similarly, the need to pull away from Seungwoo's touch, because _God_ does it feel like he deserves none of it—so that he can ask, "Why'd you do it? Aren't you mad at me?"

The next question that dies at the tip of Chan's tongue is, Aren't you hurt? _Didn't I hurt you?_ And Seungwoo must hear it anyway because he takes a second to answer, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, never seeming like he's able to find the right words. "I didn't really wanna see you," he ends up admitting, a slight frown taking over his features. "Not so soon, anyway. I was worried, though... How's your lip?"

Chan's about to answer, to shake his head, reassure Seungwoo that it's fine—but he realizes in an instant what Seungwoo's trying to do.

His silence must be telling because Seungwoo attempts to deflect the question again. He brings up Sejun, making it very clear that what he did was not okay, and apologizes on the idol's behalf; he attempts to joke about how scary Subin was when they scolded Sejun afterwards; he even asks about Seungsik, tentatively wanting to know if the threat to leak the video was real. At no point does Chan do anything other than stare at Seungwoo.

"Hyung," he ends up cutting in after a while, "we have to talk about today."

Seungwoo looks like a little kid caught in a lie. It's sad, in a way, but Chan remembers Seungsik's words: _Seungwoo's been kind of an idiot too_. Chan isn't the only one who sucks at confronting problems head on, at doing the whole communication thing. It's just strange for Seungwoo, who once talked so freely and so candidly at the overpass, to be unable to do that again.

Seungwoo looks pained. His eyebrows are pinched, eyes a little glossy, and he sounds so sad when he asks, "Can't we just... not?"

"Hyung—"

"Hanse said it was a misunderstanding, didn't he? We can just leave it at that."

"Hyung," Chan sighs, "you know we can't."

But oh, the tentation is there. If only they could take the easy route and do like Chan's been doing this whole time, simply ignoring his problems away. It's proof of how messy things have gotten, how _draining_ they are now, that Seungwoo isn't begging for Chan to talk to him, because that's how you'd think this whole thing would end like, isn't it? Instead, he's begging Chan _not_ to do it. Things would be so much easier if they didn't talk. But they _have to_. Chan is dead sure of it now.

Seungwoo must know it too, even if he won't speak first—so Chan does it.

For the first time in the half decade that he and Seungwoo have known each other, Chan honest to God _talks_.

**TWENTY-THREE.**

He starts not by saying words, but by grabbing Seungwoo's hands.

They've always been able to talk with their bodies, anyway. Even if they got missed signals—just some weeks ago was Chan realizing what Seungwoo sitting at the back of the studio really meant—they could still rely on their bodies to communicate everything they couldn't say out loud for various reasons. Instead of _I love you_ 's they had Chan biting Seungwoo's lips; they had Seungwoo hiding his face in the crook of Chan's neck. Holding hands was also another way of saying _I love you_ , but it also meant countless other things: I liked your song; you look good today; I know you're tired, me too; I'm here for you; I'm sorry.

Chan thinks their interlocked fingers now mean something closer to _Please let me still have you_ , even if he means them as an apology.

"I'm sorry for what I did earlier," he says, forcing his eyes to leave their hands so he can look Seungwoo in the eye. "It wasn't— I don't know what I was thinking, wanting to hurt you like that, but—"

"You... wanted to hurt me?"

"Just a little." He's unable to lie, but the confession still makes him cringe, utterly ashamed of himself. Chan ends up squeezing Seungwoo's hands tighter, hoping to God that Seungwoo doesn't let go, not so soon, not before they get at least this out of the way. "I felt hurt because you acted like I was a complete stranger during the MV filming, so I wanted to get back at you."

It's hard to describe Seungwoo's expression. He's frowning when he says, "I don't think I ignored you that day?"

"Hyung, you wouldn't even _look_ at me."

Chan exhales, harsh, trying so hard not to be brought back to that day. He might have played it off, telling himself that he was fine with the way Seungwoo acted, but it hurt _so_ bad. Enough to make him do something stupid like telling Hanse to imply that they have a thing, knowing full well absolutely no one would come out winning from that, preferring to inflict pain before doing the reasonable thing and just _talk_ with Seungwoo.

So he has to ask, not even attempting to mask the pain in his voice, "Why did you do that? When we kissed, I thought—"

He has to stop, take a deep breath, try to stop himself from crying again.

God, his headache is killing him.

"You mean after we kissed? Channie, we were on set. People were working around us. I couldn't just—"

Although Seungwoo cuts himself off before finishing that thought, it's easy for Chan to imagine what'd come after. _I couldn't just_ — But the truth is, he probably could have. If it's Seungwoo, he could have done anything and Chan would have let him get away with it, and gladly so. But, again, he's just guessing here; Seungwoo could mean anything and Chan wouldn't know unless Seungwoo said the words out loud. So Chan pushes all assumptions to the side and merely waits until Seungwoo is ready to continue talking.

Unsurprisingly, Seungwoo drops it in favor of going back to what Chan said. He sighs, thumb gently caressing the back of Chan's hand, and asks, "What did you think after the kiss?"

God, what did he _think_ —

He scoffs at Seungwoo, "What do you think, hyung? With the way you kissed me—" and then he lets it go, thinking that there's no point in getting worked up over it now. It makes sense that Seungwoo even asks; all the ever-changing emotions that Chan feels are only obvious to himself, so, much like how Seungwoo has to do, he also has to put in effort so that Seungwoo will understand him. He continues in a soft tone, eyes downcast, "You didn't have to kiss me the second time. I know you heard the director; just once was enough. And yet you— What else could I think if not that you, maybe—"

The words get caught at the tip of his tongue, and even though Chan knows he needs to let them out, they're as heavy as lead and just won't go past his teeth. Unable to swallow the words yet unable to spit them out, Chan can do nothing but keep his eyes tightly shut, trying not to think about how stupid this is. Communicating? Can they even call this that? What are they doing, really?

This is so hard. Too hard. And even though Chan knows, rationally, that it's the best thing he could do right now, he just can't find it in himself to admit that he harbored the tiniest of hopes that, maybe, Seungwoo still liked him.

He knows, though. He knows he can't keep it to himself.

Chan does the unthinkable and pries his fingers from Seungwoo's grip, pressing the heels of his hands firmly against his eyes, trying his goddamn best not to cry out of frustration.

"I really thought—" He can do it. He just has to say it: I thought maybe you wanted me back, too. I thought maybe you still loved me the way I still love you. I thought maybe the kiss was your way of saying it, that you wanted to try again, and I was ready to say yes. "Hyung, I thought—" Chan's voice breaks.

The crack in his voice is immediately followed by a sob that he can't keep down. Realizing he's about to cry, that his palms already feel wet with tears that don't roll down his face only because he doesn't let them, Chan holds his breath and attempts to die—it would be less embarrassing than crying for the second time in the same night in front of Seungwoo. God, he's really not the type to cry over anything; it's so humiliating that he can't control his emotions now.

It's even more embarrassing the way Seungwoo doesn't waste a second in leaning in, touch comforting as he attempts to pry Chan's hands from his face. It works almost too easily, too quickly; Chan has no will to fight the warm hands that move to cup his face, tenderly wiping away the tears.

"Channie, don't cry."

"What are we doing?" The feeling that suddenly curses through Chan's veins is something closer to anger, but just like before, it dissipates quickly and leaves nothing but sadness in place. He's angry at himself for being so big of an idiot that he can't even do something as simple as talking about his feelings to the one person who should know about them the most; he's angry at Seungwoo for not being better at this, for not being able to meet Chan halfway; but, most of all, he just feels sad. Even if this is the first time they actually _talk_ , it's clear that they can't even do that.

He doesn't know if he means it when he speaks again.

"I should have never offered to dance for you."

"Don't— Don't say that."

It sounds desperate, the way Seungwoo says it. It brings Chan back to that day, the two of them standing in the same studio, Chan begging for Seungwoo to dance with him, and _oh_ , how the tables have turned.

That's why Chan continues, insistent, tears running down his cheeks as he stares at Seungwoo right in the eye, somehow able to withstand it when Seungwoo looks so pained. "No, I'm right, hyung—I should have never followed you that day. We should have never gone to the overpass, the river banks. I should've gone on my date and you should've released your album on time. Us meeting again was a mistake."

"Channie."

Is that all Seungwoo's going to say? No rebuttal, no pleading, no, 'Channie, you're wrong'? So he must know that Chan isn't wrong, then. Seungwoo must agree. Even if Chan's trying his damn hardest to go by what they're saying, to avoid making assumptions, what else can he do when Seungwoo does nothing but stare at him like a kicked puppy?

So it's clear what Chan should do. He should be letting go of Seungwoo, apologizing because he can't help Seungwoo with the comeback stages anymore, leaving Seungwoo behind to go cry in Seungsik's arms like he did back then. This is his chance to stop the suffering; to patch up the holes in his chest; to stop the ache in his heart. Yeah, it'll hurt. A lot. And it won't go away for a while. But, maybe, in another three years, when Seungwoo is more famous and Chan's figuring life after graduation out, maybe they'll be able to move on for good.

It's clear that that's how things should go.

He knows he should be doing that.

And yet Chan can't help it when he reaches out and grabs the hem of Seungwoo's shirt, fingers painfully clutching onto the fabric. He doesn't want to let go yet. He still wants to dance with him. He wants to kiss Seungwoo and to stop thinking about everything because all he does is hurt himself and others and it's _bad_. And maybe if he kisses Seungwoo it'll hurt even more in the long run, but he doesn't care. It's not like Chan is known for his emotional intelligence and good life decisions, anyway. He selfishly wants to stay like this, unable to hold Seungwoo's hand yet still holding onto him in whatever other way he can find.

"I'm not saying to try again," he continues, trying his damn hardest not to get choked up, "because I know we don't work as a couple. But, hyung, maybe we don't work as friends, either."

"I don't think that's true," Seungwoo argues. His hands are still on Chan's face and he uses them to force Chan to look at him. His eyes look desperate, but something about them is so utterly genuine, so sincere, that it makes Chan desperately want to look away. "I know things didn't work out for us back then, but that was three years ago, Chan—almost four years ago. We were stupid teens. Surely, if we tried again now, we'd be different."

"Wha— You wanna try again?"

Seungwoo pauses. His wide eyes are so genuine and his voice so innocent when he asks, "You don't?"

**TWENTY-FOUR.**

How does one end up like this?

Here you have two people who clearly care for each other. Be it platonic, romantic, _whatever_ —the only thing that matters is how deeply the love for each other runs, and it runs _deep_. Chan is able to feel it in his bones, almost as if it were born there instead of being pumped out by his heart. It's a love so intense that's been able to last through a breakup, through three years without a single life signal from Seungwoo, through every attempt to get over it and move on.

That's Chan, at least.

The idea that Seungwoo could be the same never crossed his mind even once.

Seungwoo's words sit heavily between them, the question that Chan can't quite process. _You don't?_ So that means Seungwoo wants to try again? He wants them to date, to be boyfriends, to do things boyfriends do, to not just be friends who kissed twice but really only one of those two counted—

Chan just can't wrap his head around it. For how long has Seungwoo felt this way? Since the kiss? Since before then? Since the very beginning? Chan remembers that whole monologue that Seungwoo had while at the overpass, something that seemed like a love letter to the past, unless it was about the present, his way of telling Chan that he still chased after him? Or maybe not? Maybe Chan is reading too hard into it?

But the song—the new one—how do you explain that?

Has Chan been getting everything wrong this whole time?

Seungwoo wants to try again.

Seungwoo still likes him.

Could Seungwoo still love...?

"I can see the way that broke your brain," Seungwoo jokes, a puff of laughter accompanying his words. The same way _Heocaroon_ was uttered, as gentle as when he tried to distract Chan from his tears—but now he's trying to get Chan to pay attention. "I mean it. I truly mean it. I want to give us another try."

"Even after what I did today?"

Chan's voice is small. It's fragile. He feels vulnerable, uncomfortably so. Seungwoo reacts by shuffling a little closer, legs sliding on the wooden floor to sit right next to Chan, much closer than they were at the overpass or while sitting at the river bank. One of the hands cupping Chan's cheek slowly slides down the side of his neck until it comes to rest at his nape, thumb caressing the patch of skin right under Chan's ear. Everything about this—the closeness, the intimacy in their touches—it feels so _right_ , so much that it hurts.

"Even after today." Seungwoo smiles then, lips pulled into a loving smile that doesn't quite match his next words. "Even if you had pulled Hanse and kissed him right in front of me, I don't think I would've stopped wanting you."

Chan frowns. "That doesn't sound too healthy."

"It probably isn't, no."

It's nothing to laugh at, but Seungwoo still lets out a small chuckle. If Chan does it as well, then it's only because he knows exactly how Seungwoo feels. It's weird that the two of them are on the same page for once, and over such a thing for that matter, but Chan welcomes the feeling, content not having to stress over what Seungwoo is thinking.

"You didn't answer the question," Seungwoo whispers after the small moment is over, barely audible over the sound of the music. "Do you?"

And Chan notices it now. Even if Seungwoo has a smile on his face, even if his eyes are warm and his touch is loving and familiar, there's still that something there, something you can only notice if you look closely—something that Chan recognizes as _fear_.

Seungwoo's voice turns raw as he lets it slip through.

"Do you want to try again?"

"I do wanna try," Chan finally gets the words out, immediately feeling lighter, as if all the weight on his shoulders, on his back, crushing his lungs, all of it is suddenly gone. "God, it's all I've been wanting since we met again, but, hyung—" Before Seungwoo's smile grows wider, before he's pulling Chan in for a kiss, already holding onto him with such fervor that Chan starts feeling feverish, his skin feeling like it's on fire where Seungwoo's hands touch him, wanting to be even closer still—before that can happen, Chan forces himself to continue, because he _has_ to make this clear. "I want to try and I want to do it right this time. I want us to communicate properly, to take care of each other, to be there for each other— Hyung, listen, we _have_ to do better."

"I hear you, and we will, I know that we will, but— Fuck, can I kiss you?"

" _Hyung_ , I mean it—"

Chan's tone is scolding—he's, arguably, doing the one thing he's been trying to do for months and Seungwoo is out here only thinking about his lips—but he feels himself nod time and time again, eyelids fluttering shut as he leans in before he can even finish his sentence. Because they're on the same page about this, too.

What else could you expect? Throw gasoline on a building and light a match nearby, don't act surprised if everything goes up in flames.

There's a lot to be said about this kiss. You could probably spin some poetic bullshit on it, something about where they're kissing, how they're doing it, compare past and present, but Chan's mind is so far away from anything that isn't the crude reality: Seungwoo's hands pulling him close and closer and even closer still, until Chan clumsily makes his way onto Seungwoo's lap; the way Seungwoo sighs into his mouth once Chan is all settled; the sigh that turns into a whine when Seungwoo's lip is caught between Chan's teeth. The pain from his busted lip doesn't even phase him—it might even be bleeding, wound open again, metallic taste blending in with everything else, but Chan couldn't care less.

The only thing that matters is the pain on his knees from having to shift his weight on them when Chan pushes Seungwoo down on the floor. The vibrations on the floor, the beat on Chan's skin—everything is overwritten by the touch of Seungwoo's fingertips as they trace lines from Chan's neck, down his arms, enveloping his wrists, and then jump to his waist, his hips, under the hem of his shirt. And, yeah, Chan feels it now: the taste of blood amidst the sweetness that is Seungwoo.

"Shit, Channie, your lip—"

Seungwoo pulls away, hands pushing against Chan's chest so that he'll put some distance between them, just enough for Seungwoo to take a good look at his lip. And while he does that, Chan can't help but stare at the state Seungwoo's in: the tousled hair; the wrinkled clothes; the red-bitten lips; everything Chan hoped to see that day at the filming site.

For some reason, it's that thought what brings Chan back to earth.

It sobers him up in an instant, the need to kiss and touch and do more pushed to the side for just one second so that Chan'll be able to think. As if his brain is only now starting to work properly, Chan finally realizes what's happening. It's like something just _clicks_ , and Chan realizes the person he has underneath him isn't just Han Seungwoo, mildly famous producer and singer, or Seungwoo, former fellow trainee and high-school classmate, but _Seungwoo_ , Chan's _boyfriend_.

They're dating again.

They're really back together.

Somehow, not even done getting through all the mess and the pain and the drama, they're together again. Seungwoo and Chan. And it feels right.

**TWENTY-FIVE.**

How do you even burn sweat? It's sweat. How do you burn a liquid? Flammable and combustible liquids themselves do not burn; it's the mixture of their vapours and air that burns. Chan just googled that last part so he's pretty sure about it.

Or maybe he's understanding that wrong? He squints at his phone, pushing back his newly-dyed blond bangs after they fall over his eyes, immediately going back to scrolling down the results page looking for a Wikipedia article or something like that to skim through. Chan knows it's just a poetic title, something to encompass the experience of feeling like you're burning up as you dance with the person you love—he guesses, at least—but maybe that's an actual thing that can happen? Is that how spontaneous human combustion happens? Did Chan just crack spontaneous human combustion? What time is it?

Chan checks the time on his phone. He's been waiting for Seungwoo for an hour already.

He can hear his friends laughing all the way from the second floor, Maya's house having too-thin walls for the type of parties she likes to throw. Chan wants to go inside and join in on the fun, but with a cigarette in hand and a promise to keep, he stays put on the sidewalk. Seungwoo did warn him that he might be a little late because of a schedule, but he should be arriving soon.

"Too bad he wouldn't let me listen to the demo," Chan hums, mouth around the butt of the cig as he tries to remember the main melody of _Chasing Fire_ , wondering what the lyrics were like when the song still had its original title.

It's fun to think about stuff like that, especially for Chan, who was already familiar with Seungwoo's work but now more than ever, seeing as he spends most of his free time at Seungwoo's studio. He gets a little carried away trying to compose the song in his head, fingers tapping the bone of his knee in a rhythm that doesn't match _Chasing Fire_ or what he knows of _Burning Sweat/Past Desires_ , soon morphing into a thing on its own.

"Huh." Chan exhales, staring at the smoke dissipating in the night air, wondering if maybe it's time he goes back to his original dream. "Should I start making songs again?"

"What are you doing down there?"

"Oh, hyung."

Chan blinks at Seungwoo, surprised to see him walking towards the entrance to Maya's house and not getting out of a cab or his manager's car. It's seeing him walk with such confidence, still in the flattering outfit he must have worn for his schedule, that Chan has a moment, not fully believing that this guy is his boyfriend. Like, Seungwoo's not an idol—he'd probably be so embarrassed if he could hear Chan's thoughts right now—but _wow_. Just, wow.

"Did you wait long? Sorry, the show ran a lot longer than they said it would. You would not believe the games they had planned for me." Seungwoo smiles apologetically at him, finally close enough that he catches sight of the cigarette in Chan's hand. Seungwoo doesn't really frown, but he does look a little confused. "I thought you said you'd quit?"

"Yeah, I'm trying, this is just..." Putting out the cigarette on the sidewalk, Chan throws it away before standing, joining Seungwoo on the entrance, not going in just yet. "Nerves, y'know? Needed something to avoid thinking about everything that could go wrong tonight."

"Sejun and Subin aren't here yet, are they?"

Chan shakes his head. "Don't think so, but even then, thinking of what my friends will say when they see you..."

Things with Seungwoo are still pretty new. His friends are aware that they're still talking—they have to be, considering Seungwoo's still promoting his song and Chan's still joining him on stage a few times a week—but Chan hasn't broken the good news yet. He is, in all honesty, scared shitless as to what their reaction will be. He's not expecting a standing ovation and a congratulatory drink accompanied by several variations of, 'Finally!' thrown at them—maybe he could've gotten that from Hanse before that day at the restaurant, but definitely not now. No, Chan expects more mixed reactions. He doesn't even want to think about what a bad one would be like.

"Hey, it'll be okay." Seungwoo moves his hands to cup Chan's face, as Chan's learned that he likes to do just because. "You said Seungsik was rooting for us, right? That's already one person on our side."

"Yeah, but the others..."

"What's the worst thing that can happen? Byungchan punches me in the face and I have to cut my promotions short? Please, they're so draining; I don't mind one less week of playing silly games for premium meat."

"Don't joke about that," Chan whines, mainly because he enjoys that premium meat that Seungwoo brings back in the odd occasion he wins any. "Plus, Maya has a strict no fighting rule in her house." He doesn't include the small detail that the rule doesn't apply if Maya starts the fight herself, but Seungwoo does have a point here: they already have Seungsik rooting for them. If they get Hanse or Haemi on their side as well, then the chances of Maya seeking revenge for what Sejun did decrease significantly.

"I'll make sure to let Sejun know when he gets here."

Chan hums, some reply about Sejun getting lost at the tip of his tongue when Seungwoo leans in without warning, kissing him for no reason.

And isn't that amazing? They can just do that. To kiss when you want to kiss, to touch when you want to touch, to be able to say the words you're thinking as soon as they pop up in your head—how many times has Chan said that he loves Seungwoo in the past few weeks? Because he does. He loves him so much.

Seungwoo hasn't said it back yet, but Chan is fine with that. He is genuinely fine with it.

"Hey," Chan pulls apart with a soft hum, finger wrapping around Seungwoo's wrists to get Seungwoo's hands off his face, but only so that he can hold them. "I love you."

The look that crosses over Seungwoo's features isn't a bad one. It's the same one that Chan saw the very first time he said _I love you_ again, right before their first pre-recording together. That whole day is fuzzy in Chan's head, but he vividly remembers muttering the words right before getting on stage, remembers the glint that made Seungwoo's face light up, the faint red on Seungwoo's cheeks, the smile that he carried on stage.

"I know," Seungwoo says.

And Chan knows that Seungwoo knows, just like how he knows that Seungwoo loves him back. He can tell by the glint in his eyes, he can see it in the grip of his hands, he can taste it in the kiss that they share before they knock on Maya's door.

So it's fine if Seungwoo takes his time before saying it back. It's fine if they spend their whole lives failing to use their words, relying on their bodies.

As long as Chan gets to say that he loves Seungwoo, that's enough.


End file.
